Then and After 1: Damien
by Harmony Valenka Smith
Summary: This is a slight genderbend. A female OC will be dating the dads. This story will be focused on Damien. These stories won't necessarily be in order since they're different timelines, but I encourage you to read them in order regardless. I hope you look forward to then. Rated M for mature language and scenes.
1. Prologue

**Welp. I'm gonna get yelled at, but I don't really care. I didn't appreciate** ** _Dream Daddy_** **'s lack of a female option. Moms can be single and get remarried too, you know. Not that I care 100%. This series is gonna be my female OC and her son as they overcome the death of the husband/father that was previously in their lives and hooking up with some of the dads from DDADDS. This first one is gonna revolve primarily around Damien and, while a lot of the plot will be similar, you will notice the changes as the story progresses. I hope you enjoy it, however corny it may be :P I do not own** ** _Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator._** **All rights to all products go to their respective owners. That said, if nothing I've said has deterred you, then read on!**

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Prologue

Ever since Daniel died, it has been hard on me and my son, Andrew. Every time I walked into the door of our house, it felt like… like something was very wrong. To have the love of my life taken so quickly and to not be able to do anything to stop it or bring him back… I'm sure many others had gone through this. I'm sure many others had gotten over it after two years and moved on. There were so many things that still made me cry though.

I used to be able to walk home after work at night. Daniel would always be there. Sometimes, we would ride home together in our car. After he died though… the night scares me. It reminds me of how he was taken. I started working day shifts.

Andrew remained pretty much the same. I knew he was trying to be strong for me. I knew it hurt him badly to lose another father.

Adopting him was one of the best moments of my life. He was young when we adopted him, but he was old enough to remember his parents. There had been no one else left to take care of him. He had been at the mercy of the system for some time before we found him.

I finally decided that we had to get out of that house. The memories of Daniel hurt too much. I didn't want to pull Andrew out of his school though. It was a good school and he was in his Senior year of high school. I couldn't do that to him. Besides that, I couldn't imagine changing jobs. I had worked at the same store for so long.

So, I sold our house and moved us across town. It was a small city, almost a town, but I knew there would be people in this new area that I didn't know, people who wouldn't constantly remind me of who I lost. My neighbors had been… less than supportive. At least my coworkers helped me cope and forget him at times. I guess not everyone understands.

We moved into a cute little cul-de-sac. I smiled as I imagine the little spot in the winter and how Daniel would probably be doing donuts until one of us peed laughing. We left our old house behind and moved into the fresh new one.

"Hey, Mom, we should get some coffee," said Andrew.

"After moving all these boxes into the new house, I could use a little something to boost my energy," I admitted.

"I saw a coffee shop just down the block. We should head there."

"Sounds good."

We walked down to the small coffee shop, "The Coffee Spoon". We talked to the barista for a bit and had some coffee. It seemed like a nice spot for college kids to hang out. I know I would have a few years ago.

As we sat there drinking our coffee, I noticed a dark, brooding man across the room. His stare was cold and he looked like he had killed a man. Somehow, though, I couldn't look away. The barista, Mat, saved me by presenting us with some banana bread samples.

"This is gonna be new to the shop, but I just can't think of what to call it," he commented, scratching his dreadlock-covered head nervously.

I glanced back to his chalkboard menu and noticed how it was full of 80's references. Coming up with a new one was a challenge at first until I noticed a little one-hit wonder that wasn't on his board. "How about 'Right-Said Banana Bread'?"

"Sounds good," replied Mat with a nervous smile. I smiled back and he quickly walked away.

"Good bread," commented Andrew.

"This is true," I replied.

We left the Coffee Spoon and Andrew said, "Y'know… I wouldn't call coffee and banana bread much of a break…"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

"We should go to the park."

"You just want an excuse to pet other people's dogs and then give me the whole 'This dog is _so_ awesome, Mom. We should totally get one,'" I said, mocking him.

"No…" he said.

I rolled my eyes. "A walk in the park wouldn't hurt. At least we're outside getting some fresh air."

"And not inside huffing cardboard."

"Cardboard…" I said in my stoner voice.

"You're so weird, Mom."

"But you love me."

"This is true."

When we got to the park, I basked in the smell of the fresh air. "It's such a beautiful day," I said.

"This is a cool park," Andrew commented, eyeing the skating ramps in the distance.

"Oh, no. We are _not_ visiting that era again."

"Come on, Mom. It wasn't _all_ bad."

"Yeah, because that was totally _not_ the reason I started greying at the age of 28!" I said flipping up my bangs to reveal a small line of grey roots in my hair. "You should be lucky I didn't have a heart attack," I said as I let my bangs fall back into place.

"Yeah…" he got quiet then. He started looking at his feet and I knew he was gonna start sulking.

Before I could start consoling him back into a happy state, my words were interrupted by a Frisbee to the head. "Ouch!" It hit me a little above the eyebrow, so my eye started tearing up. "That hurt." I held the abused area with my hand.

"Geez, Mom, are you okay?" Andrew asked.

Before I could reply, I was again interrupted, but this time by a small Welsh Corgi. Its little bark and waggle butt were all it took to make Andrew forget I existed. As he petted the dog, I heard his owner come up.

"Hey, Maxwell! Good boy!" said the deep voice. I looked up to see a burly ginger man. My eye was still teary, but I was able to greet him well enough.

"Nice throw," I commented.

"Sorry about that. Maxwell here can get going pretty far, pretty fast. I figured, the longer he has to run, the more fun it will be for us," said the man.

"Dad, she's probably gonna have a bruise now," commented his young companion, presumably his daughter.

"It's fine. I suppose the next time, I'll just catch it with my teeth," I said, quick to the smooth.

He chuckled. "The name's Brian, and this here's my daughter, Daisy," he said.

"It's nice to meet you both," I nodded.

"See you around?"

"Sure."

We waved good-bye and left the park. Andrew and I then proceeded home to finish unpacking. There wasn't a lot left, thankfully.

When I had stuffed the boxes of Christmas decorations and my mementos of Daniel into the spare room, I told Andrew to call it good. "I can't believe how much is still left over," I commented, seeing the boxes I had of Daniel's clothes, pictures, and presents he had gotten me. I had gotten rid of some things, but others… I couldn't bear to part with yet.

"It's okay, Mom," said Andrew, laying a hand on my shoulder comfortingly.

I smiled. We then heard the doorbell ring. Andrew bounded down the hall and answered the door. I lingered by the spare room for a few moments before joining him. A tall, clean-cut blonde man stood there and was giving Andrew some cookies. He saw me and greeted me, "Hello, my name's Joseph. I just brought over some cookies to welcome you two to the neighborhood. I also came to invite you both to the barbeque we're having at my house on Saturday."

Before I could reply, Andrew cut in with, "Barbeques are cool." He said it coolly, but I knew how much of a carnivore he was. Just like his mom.

"We'd love to come! Thank you for the welcome and the cookies," I replied.

"Any time. You know, if you ever need anything, you should get on _Siingle._ I'm on there often. There are a lot of single parents out there who often need help, encouragement, or just clean friendship," said Joseph.

"It sounds an awful lot like a dating site…" I said suspiciously.

"Oh, no, you got the wrong idea! It's a completely platonic way of getting in touch with other single parents who are going through the same struggles. What you do with it is up to you."

I shrugged. "I'll consider it then."

"Sounds great. Well, see you Saturday at three sharp!" He waved and left.

I looked over to Andrew to see that the cookies were no longer on the plate. He held the last one, half-eaten, in his hand. I sighed and put a hand on my head. "What am I going to do with you?" I asked.

"What? I'm a growing boy," he said innocently.

"Fine then. I just thought I taught you how to share things with your mother, especially when they're sweets."

"You wouldn't've liked these anyway. You'd think they were too rich."

"Next time, let me be the judge of that."

"Ugh, fine." He handed me the empty plate.

I handed it back to him. "Nuh uh, you have to go over to Joseph's and return his plate."

"Okay." Before he could head out the door, I stopped him.

"Wait. Let's wash it first. That's a little more neighborly, I think." I wasn't used to having neighbors so close. Daniel and I kinda kept to ourselves for the most part, especially with how disapproving everyone was of our relationship.

I washed the plate and then handed it to Andrew. "You know, I know how you don't wanna get attached to anyone, but there's nothing wrong with making new friends, especially since no one here knows us," he commented.

"I know, Andrew. I know."

He knew I was brushing it off. "Okay, whatever, Mom. Be right back."

He left, but was back in less than a minute. "I thought you were gonna make friends," I teased.

"You should see Joseph's kids sometime. They're creepy as heck," said Andrew, peeking out of the blinds.

"All kids are creepy. I remember you when you were 13. That was the creepiest time of my life."

"Oh, yeah, my goth phase. Not going back there, promise."

"Good." I stretched. "Well, how about another quick walk, just to get the lay of the land?"

"I'm game."

We headed out the door and took another walk around the neighborhood. As we were walking around, a familiar voice called my name. "Carrie! Dude!"

I whipped around and grinned widely at the voice's owner. "Craig! Bro! I haven't seen you in forever! How've you been?" I greeted enthusiastically.

"Good, my dude, very good."

"You got _fit,_ Dude!"

"Thanks. I kinda gotta be fit now that I'm a dad." I noticed the little one strapped to his chest.

"She's adorable!"

"Sha. This is River." He grabbed her little wrist and made her do a little wave. She smiled and gurgled happily. "Man, and this must be Andrew!" He looked at my son and I nodded. "Man, last time I saw him, he was smaller than River. You got big, my dude!" He ruffled Andrew's hair.

"Thanks, I guess?" Andrew commented.

"Craig and I are old college roommates. The college was co-ed and Craig told the administrators that he was gay. He didn't get caught in the lie till junior year," I said.

"Aw, man! You can't imagine how many girls I got to be with," said Craig.

"Yeah, but wasn't Smashley—Ashley, I mean, your girl?" I asked.

"She still goes by Smashley and we got divorced last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I know you two were pretty tight."

"It's A'ight. Hey, we should race some time, just like back in college. I remember you used to be able to sprint pretty far pretty fast."

"Aw, man, it's been so long since I've ran for recreation… or any kind of running."

Craig laughed. "Well, we should hang out some time, catch up. We could go running and then grab a brunch, like we used to or you could come watch one of my girls' softball games."

"How many kids do you have now?!"

"Three. The other two are twins."

"Twins…" I was stunned.

"Well, I gotta get back to my jog. It was great seeing you again!"

"You too, Dude!" We waved each other off as he headed in the opposite direction. "Man, Keg-Stand Craig is a father of three…"

"Keg stands? Whoa, this dude sounds awesome," commented Andrew.

"He _is_ awesome."

We headed home and spent the rest of the day chilling on the couch watching TV. Andrew received a text on his phone. "Oh, hey, Mom, is it cool if I go hang with Eddie P. and Eddie R.?" he asked.

"Sure, just make sure to be home before midnight and text me if plans change, K?" I requested.

"Sure thing, Mom. Love you," he said, heading for the door.

"Andrew! Jacket!" I called out.

He grabbed his jacket from the coat rack, whipped it on, and headed out. I sighed. "Well, now what do I do?" It was still early. "Think I'll hit up somewhere local."

I headed out and found a little dive bar called Jim and Kim's. I headed in and was immediately assaulted with old memories. I hadn't been to this particular bar before, but something about it rang so many bells in my mind. I took a seat at the bar and got a wine cooler. I still needed to get home after this, after all.

I looked down the bar and noticed a familiar face: the brooding man from the Coffee Spoon. I felt the blood leave my face when I saw him and I physically jumped when he looked at me and spoke, "Hey." His voice was gruff, but oddly alluring.

"Hey," I replied.

He said no more. He appeared to be watching the soccer game that was on the poor res TV. I remembered watching soccer with Daniel. One of our favorite teams was playing. It looked like they were winning.

It turned out being a close game. The brooding man rooted for the opposing team, for some reason. I laughed inwardly. I stayed until the game ended. My team won. I raised my bottle and he raised his glass. Respect.

He motioned to the bartender and he poured two shots of whiskey. One of them was slid to the man, the other to me. "The name's Robert," said the gruff man.

"Thanks. I'm Carrie."

When he asked if I was new to the neighborhood, I nodded. "Well, you've come to the right place. As slimy as it is, Jim and Kim's is the best in town." He paused. "What kinda drinks you prefer?"

"I'm down for anything, though I usually stick to the fruity drinks."

He nodded. "You down for a shot?"

I gulped down my shot of whiskey as a reply. I winced slightly at the flavor. I heard Robert giggle a little. "Been a while since you had something hard?"

"Kinda, but I'm good with it."

He smiled. "Be right back."

The bartender nods to me. "I've never seen Robert this talkative, he must like you," he said.

I shrug and blush, whether from embarrassment or the whiskey I wasn't sure. Man, it really has been a while since I drank hard liquor. I feel it in my skull.

Robert comes back and grabs his jacket. "I'm walking home, you heading my way?" he asked.

"I live in the cul-de-sac down the way."

"Me too. Come on." He ushers me onward and we head out.

We walk home and I discover he only lives a few houses away. _Shit, a lot of attractive dudes in this area…_ I thought. I fumble with my keys and head inside. I didn't even make an effort to head to my room. I just fell onto the couch and slept.

I woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast. I shuffled over to the bar and sat down. Andrew scooped up some breakfast onto a plate and slid it over to me. "Best. Son. Ever," I said.

"You're welcome, Mom," he replied. He glanced at his watch. "Welp. I gotta go. Don't forget about that meeting with Mr. Vega after school."

"Oh, yeah, that one." I shuffled over to the breadbox where we kept our vitamins and pills and such. I took down a few aspirin and shuddered. "As soon as I wake up." Thankfully, it was a day off for me. So, I could have some time to recover from last night.

Andrew had to be in trouble or something. It wasn't unusual. At least expulsion was never talked about.

I got to the school early. I was given a visitor's badge and headed down the hall. _Man, I don't remember where it even is…_ Mr. Vega was new to the school for that year and they hadn't even gotten a name plate for a door yet. He taught middle school before this, I remembered.

I decided to ask for directions. The punk-looking kid sent me the wrong way; however, I only realized this after five minutes of aimless wandering. When I found him again, ready to rattle off on him, Mr. Vega showed up. "Thank God," I said.

"Lucien, why don't you head home?" requested Mr. Vega.

"Whatever, Dude," Lucien replied attitudinally. I slightly glared at him as he walked past. I should be used to it after Andrew going through the same phase, but… ugh.

"Come in," said Mr. Vega. I sit in one of the desks and my mind goes back to my high school experience. I shudder. _I prefer not to think about those times._

"So, Mr. Vega, what's the problem?" I asked.

"Andrew is a bright student, he's just not very… engaged. He's not been turning in his assignments and he's been doing poorly on tests," said Mr. Vega.

"This is news to me. I don't even get to see his report card like I used to."

"I have to ask, is everything all right at home?"

"Well, we just moved, but… I don't think that's the issue. He was absolutely on board with it." I paused. "I'll talk to him about it, see what I can do."

"That's good, because I'd hate to see him miss out on the scholarship money he deserves."

"Thanks for the talk, Mr. Vega. I'll get it straightened out." We shake hands and I leave. _That was about as stressful as I remember school being._

I head to the car and find Andrew waiting there. "Hey," he greets, not looking up from his phone.

"Hey," I reply back. We get in and begin our drive. We drive in silence for a little bit, Andrew texting on his phone. "We don't have to talk about it now, but we're gonna have to talk about it at some point. If there's anything bothering you, just tell me. I'm your mom, I can take care of a lot of things."

"Thanks, Mom. 'Preciate it," he replied.

"Who're you texting so fervently?"

He snorts. "Naomi."

"Does she go to your school?"

"Yeah."

"Do you… like her?"

"Mom…"

"Okay, all right, you don't wanna talk about it. That's cool."

"She's my friend, Mom."

"Allrighty then." It gets uncomfortably silent. "How 'bout some mall nachos? You up for some mall nachos?"

"Sure."

We head to the mall. We ate some super fatty food for dinner. It was the type of food that made you feel gross for the rest of the day.

I groan.

"Hey, we should head to that goth store," said Andrew, grinning mischievously.

"No…" I didn't mean it, but it just brought back scary times in my life.

"Aw, come on, Mom. They got chain wallets, ironic mugs, band shirts, and memories."

"Yeah, of that time I threw up in there and of your hideous goth phase."

"Come on, Mom. Please?"

"Fine."

"Yes!" He made a fist pump to celebrate his victory. I rolled my eyes.

We made it to the goth store, "Dead, Goth, and Beyond", and Andrew and I perused the store. "Oh, hey, you can still kinda see the outline of it," he said, snickering.

"Andrew, no," I said.

"It's been five years. Do you know how rare it is for a place like this to still be around and have a stain like that?"

"Five years isn't that long of a time-"

"Speech!"

"No."

"Speech! Speech! Speech!"

"Fine then! Fine." I cleared my throat and stood beside the spot, but I tried not to look at it. "Yay, for it has been some time since we last crossed the threshold of this store. The last time we had done so, I overconsumed. Though the Blue Raspberry Slushee, being my most favorite of all Slushees, was delicious, it proved to be the tipping point on that day. Now, we stand here beside the remains of the poorly cleaned mess of the hurling which I had done whilst trying on a corset. From that day forth, I vowed two things: One, I would never let an amateur tighten my corset again; and two, I would never overconsume. Let us hope this stain remains here as a reminder to eat and drink wisely." I curtsied low. "Thank you."

Andrew snickers and claps that slow, ironic clap. "Thanks, Mom. You really lighten up my life," he said.

I roll my eyes. Then, I hear another set of hands clapping. "Wonderful speech," said the man. "Well said." He was tall and had long, black hair that touched his shoulders. He wore old-fashioned clothes and a cloak, looking like a lord. His nails were manicured and his eyes were a mesmerizing purple. _Clearly contacts, but they look good on him_.

"My name is Damien Bloodmarch," he said, bowing with a flourish.

"I'm Carrie Adams," I replied with a curtsy. I suddenly felt horrendously underdressed in my skinny jeans and t-shirt.

"I must confess that I did not enter this shop on as amiable terms as your lovely speech. I am glad you were here, however, as the anger I felt upon coming here has lessened a great deal."

I blushed. "I'm glad I made you happy."

He bowed his head. "I must take my leave for now. I hope to see you again soon."

"Me too. You." We both smiled. He then proceeded over to the cashier and began talking with her about how he did not receive the right type of clothing. The fashions he mentioned were only vaguely familiar in my brain. I took out my phone to look them up. _I can see why he'd be upset at receiving Edwardian fashion. Victorian stuff is way cooler._ I gathered that he had wound up getting a refund on the garment and I smiled.

"Hey, Mom?" Andrew took me out of my thoughts. "You okay?"

"Yeah, totally," I replied.

"Cool. I'm gonna buy this T-shirt." It was one of those Keep Calm tees.

"I approve."

As Andrew was checking out, Damien approached me. "That was some good negotiating," I commented.

"It helped that I had a level head when speaking to her. I must thank you again."

"It really was no problem."

"My neighborhood is having a barbeque to celebrate someone who just moved in, perhaps you would like to accompany me as a friend?"

"Do you live in the cul-de-sac?"

He seemed surprised. "Yes…?"

"My son, Andrew, and I are the newcomers."

"Ah! How delightful! I shall see you this Saturday at 3:00 then."

"Yes, I look forward to meeting everyone and seeing you again."

"Thank you." I saw a small blush on his cheeks. "Well, I must take my leave, for I have done what I came here to do. I bid you good day, madam."

Now, it was my turn to blush. "Thank you."

Saturday rolled around and Andrew and I brought my rendition of a Muddy Buddies snack mix. "I hope they like it," I commented to Andrew as we were walking over.

"Mom, your snack mix is awesome. It'd be inhuman if they didn't like it," said Andrew.

"I wouldn't say that," I said, embarrassed at the praise.

"It is. All the way."

"All right, well, try to let everyone try some. I don't want you eating just sweets."

"'Cause it'd be rude?"

"That's correct."

"Sure thing, Mom."

When we got there, I was shocked. Every guy there was _so_ good-looking. Everybody I had interacted with in the past few days was here: Mat, the barista; Brian, the burly man; Joseph, clean-cut blonde; Robert, brooding and gruff; Craig, my old college roomie; Andrew's teacher, Mr. Vega; and Damien, the Victorian gentleman. I grabbed my son by the arm. "Is it too late to head back?" I asked quietly.

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Hey, everybody! We're here!" he called everyone's attention. I punched his arm.

"Nice going," I replied, feeling shy about being around all these guys. There was only one other woman here. She seemed to be hanging around Joseph. I noticed the wedding rings on their fingers. _Is Joseph the only married guy here?_ That made it worse.

"My mom brought snack mix. It's the bomb," he said, taking the snack mix from me and setting it on the table. He then conveniently slid away to go be social with some of the other kids.

 _I hate being here like this. I wanna go home._ "I should probably, at least, _try_ to be social. Damn it, Daniel, I wish you were here," I said to myself quietly.

Damien approached me. "Good day, Carrie," he greeted with a bow.

"Hi, Damien," I greeted nervously.

"Are you all right? You seem stressed."

"I have never been one for social functions or crowds," I replied. I looked to the ground and started rearranging soil with my foot in circular, clockwise motions.

"Come, I shall be right by your side." I looked up to him when he said that and smiled. He brought me around to the other guys I had met and found out they were all (excepting Joseph) single dads. _Kinda weird, but okay._

I actually wound up having a good time. Joseph brought up to me, again, about the social platform _Siingle._ I decided I'd get on. I mean, all the other guys had accounts and it seemed like a good way to make friends without being entirely social.

When I got home, I set up the account on my laptop:

 **Name:** Carrie Adams

 **Summary:** Hey, guys! If you ever wanna hang out and/or grab a coffee, message me. I like going on walks, spending time with my son, and, really, doing anything fun.

 **On a Friday night, I am most likely to:** Watch let's plays online

 **If you had one thing to take with you on a desert island, what would it be:** An axe

 **What are your turn-ons:** Openness

 **What did you want to be when you grew up:** Writer

 **What's your favorite movie genre:** Romantic Comedy

 **What's your ideal date:** When we're together and we forget anyone else exists

 **What do you never leave home without:** Wallet and keys

 **I spend a lot of time thinking about:** Story ideas

I submitted this as the basic profile. I gaped at how honest I was in my responses. _This won't be a dating site… it's just for hanging out. It's a social platform._ I shook my head. _Better not dwell on that more until tomorrow._

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 **That's all for now! I hope you enjoyed it. Please keep reading and reviewing, thanks :)**


	2. Chapter 1: Tea with a Lord

Chapter 1: Tea with a Lord

My next day off rolled around a few days later. I had nothing to do, so I thought I'd check out _Siingle_ again. I looked through the other guys' profiles briefly, but I lingered more on Damien's. It wasn't just because it was interesting either. The pictures he had were very intriguing.

I read through his profile once more:

 **Name:** Damien Bloodmarch

 **Summary:** How do you do? I've decided to join this "Information Superhighway." I'm not entirely sure how this works, but I will try my best to understand. I love long strolls through graveyards and spending time with my son. If you would ever like to chat about the latest in Victorian fashion, the inevitability of our own demise, or black cats, please send me a letter!

 **On a Friday night, you are most likely to:** Listen to true crime podcasts while I taxidermy my newest specimens

 **If you had one thing to take with you onto a desert island, what would it be:** A coffin

 **What are your turn-ons:** pronouncing "bosom" correctly

 **What did you wanna be when you grew up:** a bat

 **What's your favorite movie genre:** foreign arthouse horror

 **What's your ideal date:** It's night. We are at an industrial darkwave club in Berlin. The music drums to the beat of our hearts.

 **What do you never leave home without:** an upside-down cross

 **I spend a lot of time thinking about:** mortality salience

 _He seemed like a cool guy when I met him. What's the worst that could happen? Or the best?_ I felt the blood rush from my face and to my face at those respective thoughts. I decided to message him.

" _Hey, Damien! It was cool to see you at the barbeque. We should hang out some time :D"_ I sent.

It took a few moments for Damien to reply. Then, he kept replying… and he kept typing. _Imma need some coffee._ I made some coffee, got back, and finally saw the reply:

" _Carrie,_

 _"I must confess my excitement to be receiving your kind letter for, as you see, I do find myself available to enjoy your company. I must ask for your forgiveness, however, as I believe our meetings did not give us the time to get properly acquainted. I would be highly flattered to enjoy your companionship at my residence for an afternoon tea and a stroll around my garden, should it please you. Til then, adieu._

 _"Yours, humbled,_

 _"D. Bloodmarch._ "

My brain, hard-wired for simpler speech, took a few moments to think of a proper response:

" _Sounds fun :)_

 _"Sincerely, yours,_

 _"Carrie :D_ "

"Nailed it," I said aloud.

"Good job, Mom," said Andrew from behind me.

I jumped. "Don't _do_ that," I scolded.

He snickered. "Yes, Mom."

I logged off my computer then went down the hall to my room. "Okay… what in this closet says 'Afternoon tea and a walk through the garden of a gothic lord and I want to look nice'?" I giggled to myself. "This is ridiculous. I haven't fussed over a date since-" I cut myself off. "This is not a date. It's not. Right?"

I continued to reason with myself. _I want nice clothes, but I should be prepared to get pollen and dirt on them. Dresses are out. So, my best solution would be black trousers and a purple top. Purple seems to be his favorite color and I have a frilly top that's pretty and black trousers will be ideal for being seen and for getting dirty, if necessary._ I was happy that Daniel and Andrew had endured my femininity enough to give me a wardrobe this size. I slipped some black boots on and decided I was ready.

"You look nice, Mom," said Andrew, upon seeing me.

"Thank you, son. Now, I am off!" I said.

"Sounds good. I gotta get back to school. See ya." The school allowed open campus lunch to seniors.

"Thanks for dining and dashing in Mom's Kitchen," I teased.

He stopped from heading out the door to give me a one arm hug. "Love ya, Mom." He left.

I sighed. _He's a good kid._ I then walked out to head over to Damien's house.

It was an easy house to find. It was the only one on the block painted black with gargoyles out front. It was a sunny day outside, but it felt like there was cloud cover when I stepped closer to the house. The part of me that wanted to go forward won against the part of me that wanted to turn back.

I walked up the steps and knocked on the door only to find it ajar. _Is everything all right…?_ I walked in. "Hello? Damien?" I called out. The door then slammed shut behind me. I squeaked in surprise. "A draft, I'm sure…"

"Good afternoon, Carrie," greeted Damien from the stairs. He walked down to my level. "You certainly look nice today."

"Thank you. You do too and your house is pretty cool," I replied.

"Would you care for a tour?"

"Of course."

He bowed and I replied with a curtsy. He then escorted me around the house, explaining to me how he had remodeled it after the Victorian era. There were a few items that were still modern: a bathroom, a kitchen, and his son's room.

"I remember Andrew going through a goth phase. He never explained why he stopped though," I commented.

"Are you against a gothic lifestyle?" asked Damien.

"No! I, uh… I try to be supportive of whatever Andrew wants to try and whether he chooses it as a temporary thing or a permanent thing is up to him."

"I see."

He took me into the library and I gaped at the size of the room. "Your house is certainly bigger on the inside than it is on the outside," I commented.

"I made room for everything I could."

"It's all very impressive."

"Thank you."

I took a look around his library: he had butterflies pinned in cases (which almost looked unreal); a large window (where I saw Craig doing pushups with his girls. Dang.); and, upon looking at his book collection, I saw a wide variety. There were classic novels, horror books I had never heard of (which spanned a lot of literature, I was sure), and some books looked like articles that had been pulled from the internet, based on their titles. There was one of those that was a fanfiction. When I asked him about it, he didn't give much of a reply. I decided not to press him on it.

After giving me the tour, he brought me back to the parlor. He served me tea and a sandwich before serving himself. I sipped it gingerly and realized how great it was to have tea. I smiled. "I feel like a noble lady, having high tea like this," I commented.

"High tea actually refers more to the time of day and the height of the table that the tea was served on as opposed to the people drinking it. We, my dear, are enjoying afternoon tea," he informed.

"That's cool." There was a little uncomfortable pause. I decided to broach a new subject. "I just wanna say that I really like the lifestyle you have here and the clothes you wear. It's so elegant and cool."

"Thank you. I enjoy the Victorian culture; its fashion and its architecture are beautiful. I like being able to pick from a variety of period appropriate clothes." He took a sip of his tea. "It started out as a hobby, but it quickly grew into an obsession. I find it important to appreciate the lives of those who came before us."

"Plus, it's pretty chill to live the lifestyle in today's world. Victorian style is truly, as you say, beautiful."

"It takes a critical mind to appreciate something to the fullest; to be cognizant of its flaws and love it all the same. Tell me, do you have any hobbies?"

I blushed. "I'm sure I could never be half as interested in something as you are in your interests."

"Well, I'd love to hear about them. Hearing someone talk about the things they're passionate about is intriguing, and, quite honestly, _rather attractive_. Do tell me about your interests."

 _He's so smooth and fancy! I gotta say something that sounds cool._ The words came to me, thankfully. "When I was young, I was always fascinated with stories. I wanted to tell some of my own, so I began writing. I actually have written some works of fanfiction and some original short stories and poetry. I love expressing these ideas into words… when I get the inspiration, that is."

"So, you're a writer."

"A little, but not professionally yet."

He nodded and, upon seeing that we had finished our tea and sandwiches, he stood and offered his hand to me. "Come, there is still one more thing I want to show you."

He took me out back to his garden. When I saw it, I thought, _It's like a picture for a jigsaw puzzle or a painting._ It certainly had that surreal feeling, that too beauteous to be real feeling. "Wow… it's beautiful."

Damien proceeded to explain to me how Victorians would send messages to friends and lovers via flowers. I knew flowers had meanings to them, but to hear him explain it, it sounded like he knew a great deal on the subject. Certain flowers paired together affect the message, even the ribbon's style of tying: something he taught me.

"Lilium bulbiferum. The orange lily. What do you think this one means?" he asked.

"Well, I have heard different meanings for the same flower on different cases. The orange lily is one example of such a case. I have heard it means 'passion' and I've heard that it means 'pure hatred.'"

"My, you certainly know your flowers."

"Not really. I just pay attention to lilies more since they are my favorite. They're beautiful, they smell sweet without being overpowering, and they generally symbolize purity, devotion, and prosperity. To have one placed on my coffin would speak not just of the fact you paid attention to me when I told you it was my favorite flower, but also to the fact that I am forgiven after death, that I am purified, and that you actually care…" I paused. "I went a little too deep there, didn't I?"

"Not at all. I think it's rather beautiful. I shall have to remember it when I put together a bouquet for you."

He would put together a bouquet for me? Wow… As I admire more of his flowers, I hear a phone ring. I look over to Damien and he says, "Oh, Carrie, will you excuse me? I must take this."

"Sure," I reply. Damien smiles and walks back into the house. The air smells so beautiful out here. Everything out here is simply beautiful. _I should have put more effort into building a garden…_ The boys were never interested in that though. It was always put off for some reason or another… they weren't entirely to blame, if I was being perfectly honest.

As I walked, I accidentally ran into one of the gargoyles and tipped it over. _Ah! Fix it! Quick!_ I put it back on its pedestal quickly and walked a good distance away from it. I was able to recover from the shock long enough for Damien to come back out. He looked upset.

"Carrie, my sincerest apologies to have kept you waiting. There's an urgent matter that I must attend to, so I'm afraid I must take my leave," he said quickly.

"You're good. Is everything okay?" I asked.

I noticed one of his hands playing at the hem of his cloak. "It's all right, it's just… it's Lucien. His teacher needs me to come posthaste."

"Do you… do you want me to come?"

"Oh, no, that's not necessary-"

"I want to though. I know what it's like to go in by yourself. We've been alone as parents for long enough, we should stick together, if just this once."

"You're… right. This is one of Lucien's more… elaborate stunts. I would greatly treasure having another parent by my side."

"Sounds good."

We head off in my car to the school. I am slightly surprised to see Hugo there as well. _So, both of their kids got in trouble… and it's not the first time._ I could tell by how they were looking at each other. "Thanks for coming so quickly, Damien," said Hugo.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, dear friend. What have they done this time?" asked Damien.

"This is- you have to see it to believe it." Hugo led us through the hallways down to the basement.

We get there and find Lucien; Hugo's son, Ernest; and another teacher. I notice Lucien has a bloody nose. "Goodness! Here, take these," I said, handing some tissues from my purse to Lucien.

"Thanks," he said attitudinally. "Ernest punched me."

"Lucien tried to kill me!" Ernest protested. Some masonry tools and some bricks lay scattered around us.

"What happened here?" asked Damien.

"I was not trying to kill you, dumbass. I was just trying to build a brick wall around you and see what would happen," said Lucien to Ernest.

"You promised me there was wine down here! You tricked me!" said Ernest.

"Lucien, did you… try to… Cask of Amontillado Ernest?" asked Hugo.

"I'm neither confirming nor denying that," replied Lucien. He had tissues stuffed up his nose at this point, the remaining splatter cleaned off.

"What's the Cask of Amontillado?" I asked Damien quietly.

"It's a classic Edgar Allen Poe short story where a man gets his enemy drunk, lures him down to his cellar with the promise of wine of a fine vintage, then buries him alive behind a brick wall. It's a lovely story." Damien replied.

"And Lucien tried to do that to Ernest…?" I asked.

"I was curious to see how it would turn out. I wasn't actually gonna leave him there," said Lucien.

I blinked in surprise. "Okay… what was the thought process here? Did you think Ernest was just gonna stand there while you slowly built a tomb around him?"

"Well, it worked for like, twenty minutes 'cause he's an idiot, but then he realized I had lied about the wine," Lucien replied.

"And you were cackling maniacally. That sort of tipped me off," said Ernest. I put a hand to my head.

"Twenty minutes, Ernest? We just did an entire two week segment on the Cask of Amontillado and it took you _twenty minutes_ to realize Lucien was leading you into an elaborate ruse? Did you even read the story?" asked Hugo.

"I paid Lucien to read it for me," said Ernest.

"Actually, he didn't even pay me. So, when you think about it, this was me teaching him a lesson," said Lucien. Damien and Hugo look exasperated. Lucien continues, "You guys are always telling me to 'engage in the literature' and I did. I don't see a problem here."

I groan and hold my head in my hands, matching Damien and Hugo. The other teacher says, "Okay, you two are suspended for a week. Hugo, I'll cover your class. Take your son home. You should too, Mr. Bloodmarch."

"Thank you for your mediation," said Damien. We all headed upstairs.

Damien, Lucien, and I get into my car and begin the drive home. Lucien puts his hood up and stares out the window moodily. "I'm not going to therapy again," said Lucien.

"I know, son, it's entirely up to you whether or not you want to go," said Damien. "But I care about you and I can see that you're struggling. So, if you do decide that you would like to speak to a professional about your feelings, we can do that too. Maybe you can spend this next week looking for a summer job, hm? I know how much you want your own car."

Damien is… so cool right now. I know I wouldn't have handled it this coolly.

"Fine. Thanks for not freaking out too hard," said Lucien.

"I love you, son," said Damien.

There's a pause. "Love you too," said Lucien. I inwardly aww'd. I smiled. The rest of the ride was relatively quiet.

When we arrived at their home, Lucien got out and immediately headed inside. Damien turned to me. "I didn't expect to have that conversation in front of you. He and I have a lot we need to work out," he said.

"You're good. Plus, if nothing else, his brick-laying was pretty good. He might get a job in construction or something," I reply. Damien smiles. I continue, "I really admire how you handled that. I certainly wouldn't have been nearly as cool about it as you were."

"I just want what's best for him. Yelling at him certainly wouldn't do either of us any favors."

"It certainly doesn't help in most cases. You're a good dad. See you around?"

"It would be my honor and my pleasure." Damien gives one of his classic bows as he departs.

I take the car home and find Andrew watching TV on the couch. I sit down next to him. We watch a dumb show for a while. Andrew then brings up the fact that Lucien had actually live-streamed his stunt.

"This entire day was bizarre, but I had a lot of fun. Damien's good company and a good parent," I said.

"He's cool," said Andrew.

"I think so too."

* * *

 **That's all for now! Please keep reading and reviewing, thanks :)**


	3. Chapter 2: The Theater

Chapter 2: The Theater

I really enjoyed the first date with Damien. I thought it'd be fun to hang out with him again. I smiled as I opened up Siingle to type out a message to him. Andrew interrupted by dropping an envelope into my lap. "Wait… this isn't a bill…?" I was confused. There was no one who would want to send us mail… right?

"It's from Damien," said Andrew.

"Really?" I closed my laptop and slid my fingers under the seams of the envelope. I opened it carefully and found a letter folded in threes. "A wax seal, aged paper, _calligraphy?_ This guy goes all out," I commented.

"I take this to mean you like it that he sent you a letter?"

"Of course! I haven't received a letter from someone in so long. Plus… it's obvious just from looking at it that he spent a lot of time on this. He… was thinking of me."

"Well, come on, Mom. Read it!" Andrew was insistent as he plopped down on the couch beside me.

After overcoming my embarrassment and rising feelings, I read the letter aloud:

"' _Dearest Carrie_ ,

"' _I hope you'll find my continued correspondence endearing, rather than trying. One can only hope that my use of the slower, more traditional form of communication will showcase my sincere and earnest sentiment that I greatly enjoyed our time together. I write this hastily under the warm embrace of excitement, fearful that I may misstep and speak toward something unwelcome. For now, I hope that you might forgive my boldness—I will simply say that your company has greatly occupied my thoughts. While the afternoon may have been derailed by forces unforeseen, your companionship helped a great deal; not only in the discipline of my child but in the morale of my spirit. And for that, I thank you. That said, Carrie, if you'll allow me, it would mean the world to me if I could enjoy more of your time. Perhaps a trip to the cinema followed by a moonlit stroll would be to your taste._

"' _I eagerly await your response_.

"' _With great respect_ ,

"' _D. Bloodmarch_.'"

It felt like he was speaking to me. I had forgotten the wonder, beauty, and personal touch to letters. I shook out of my stupor long enough to wonder what movie he was thinking on seeing. There were no tickets enclosed and he did not mention a specific movie in the letter. _He was into foreign arthouse horror movies and he had a huge section in his library committed to horrors. That must be his favorite genre. What horror movies are out right now?_

I perused the showtimes for this evening and saw what looked to be a cornball horror, even by today's high standards. _He might like it…?_ It was called _Vampire Crusade II: Evil Never Dies_. Andrew commented on it, "You really gonna pick _that_ for the movie? It's corny A.F."

"I appreciate how you censored yourself in front of your mother…" I said. I thought about the choice some more. I took a deep breath. _It's probably something he'd want to see, isn't it?_ "What the heck, might as well." I purchased the tickets and printed them out.

"Here, Mom," said Andrew. He ripped out a piece of paper from one of his notebooks.

"So helpful…" I was so nervous.

"Hey, it'll be fine, Mom."

"Thank you." I took a deep breath and started writing:

 _Dearest Damien,_

 _I do hope that this letter finds you in good health. I must confess of my amateur control of the written word, as well as my even more amateur penmanship. Your letter found me in good spirits, for I felt very much the same after our last encounter. While a strange turn of events, I found myself enamored of the situation at hand._

 _It would bring me great pleasure to escort you to the cinema. Enclosed you'll find two tickets to Vampire Crusade II: Evil Never Dies, which I'm sure you'll find both titillating and enjoyable._

 _Best Wishes,_

 _Carrie Adams._

I put the letter and the tickets in an envelope. _It's missing something…_ I thought. Before I could think on it further, I heard a lighter. I turned around to see Andrew with a lighter in one hand and one of my candles in the other. Once a little bit of wax collected, he carefully poured a little onto the envelope to seal it. "I'm not sure whether to be scared or proud," I said.

He shrugged. "Both works for me," he said. "Here, I'll deliver it." He stuck out his hand and I gave him the letter. "I should have kept my friendship with Carlos. We coulda delivered it to him by pigeon."

"I don't even wanna know if that's true," I said with a sigh. Andrew winked and headed out the door.

He came back a few minutes later. "Thank you, son. Now, we wait," I said.

I received a written reply acquiescing to the request and, that evening at a little before 8, I headed to the theater to meet with Damien. This time, I wore a white dress with bright cherry blossoms on it. I regretted not bringing a coat the moment I noticed how cold the theater was in comparison to outside.

As I'm lost in my own thoughts, I hear someone say, "How do you do?" I jumped and turned around to see Damien standing there.

"You startled me," I said.

"My apologies for frightening you. Are you all right?" he asked. I must have looked worse than I felt.

"I'm all right." I smiled and felt the color return to my cheeks.

He nodded with a smile. "I must thank you again for purchasing the tickets. Please, allow me to return the favor with some candy or popcorn."

"That sounds nice," I said, feeling the blush return as I smiled at him.

As we stood in line to buy snacks, I heard a familiar voice behind us. "Ugh, my dad's here…" I turned to see Lucien with some friends of his. Damien turned as well.

"Lucien, how nice to see you. I didn't know you would be coming to the theater. I'm glad to see you spending some quality time with your friends," said Damien.

"Whatever, Dad," replied Lucien.

"And what movie will you be attending tonight?"

"My friends are making me see some kid's movie about talking animals. I don't really care about it."

"Well, I do hope you enjoy your evening. We'll be watching _Vampire Crusade II: Evil Never Dies_."

" _You_ are watching _that_?"

"Yeah, I thought Damien would enjoy it," I chimed in.

Lucien laughed, "Ha! Good luck with that, Dad." He goes back to his friends and I turn to Damien.

"Good luck with what?" I asked.

"It's nothing. You know sons, they love to tease," he played it off.

"Yeah…" We wait in line a little longer and Damien buys us snacks. He seems unsettled as we head to the theater. I wonder if I picked the wrong movie. _I couldn't have. He's a horror guy… right?_

Damien only gets more unsettled as we get in our seats to watch the previews. I was a little unsettled to begin with since horror wasn't exactly my favorite genre. I was lucky to watch lesser horrors with Daniel, let alone box office hits like this. Damien getting nervous only spiked my nervousness. _But why is he getting nervous?_

I decided to outright ask him, "Is everything okay?" He and I made eye contact.

"Everything is perfectly fine. I'm just so… excited for this film. I'm a devoted patron of the arts. Especially the scary arts. The scarier the art, the better," he replied.

"Do you have a favorite horror movie?"

"I… of course I have a favorite horror movie. Mine is… _Halloweentown_. Terrifying."

"Oh, interesting." _That was one of the movies I had switched to, bored, one Halloween. I turned it off since it was getting dumb. It never struck me as scary. Something is off here…_

Only one thing made sense. I had to ask, even if I got laughed at. "Damien, are you… scared of horror movies?" I asked.

He scoffed. "You must be joking, I love horror movies."

Then, the previews end and the lights dim to darkness for the movie. I nearly fall out of my chair when I hear a scream. It had been Damien, beside me. I gripped the armrest, hard.

"I apologize, I was thinking about something far scarier than this movie. Which is not scary. At all," he said. He seemed desperate to convince me. I was nearly scared enough to suggest we leave.

 _He's scared, I'm scared, but if he's so determined to try to be brave for me, shouldn't I let him? Unless he's trying to be brave for himself, to prove himself. Either way, he's not going to leave the theater of his own volition._

I had read the reviews of the movie. Maybe I could act sick? If it got as bloody as they were saying, I might not have to act. Gore scenes in movies usually had me barfing, if not very sick.

The movie begins and I offer Damien some of my box candy. He holds out his hand shakily and I pour a few into his palm. He's sweating too. _He really has to prove himself, doesn't he?_ I take his hand into my own. He jumps.

"Carrie! Your hands are chilled!" He comments, shocked.

I didn't even notice how cold I had been getting. As the opening credits rolled, Damien removed his cloak and put it over my shoulders. I huddled into it. He wrapped an arm around me and rubbed my arm, trying to warm me.

"Thank you," I said with a smile and a slight blush.

"Not at all, my dear," he replied. "Never hesitate to ask for anything." I looked away, bashful. He still held me.

He seemed to realize this since he pulled away and turned his attention back to the movie. There were a lot of cornball parts in the movie. However, we got to a tense moment in the movie where a vampire slit someone's throat. Damien grabbed my arm. I was only momentarily distracted, however. _I understand why this gets an R rating now…_ The gore just got worse.

I felt hot and cold. I was sweating while shivering. I could see the blood onscreen and practically smell it. It reminded me of other gross things. "Damien… I don't feel well," I said quickly.

He looked to me concerned. "Let's get you some fresh air. This way," he said. He guided me out of the theater and into the empty hall.

"I need to sit down," I said, surprised at how weak my voice sounded. He helped me sit against a wall. I sank to the floor and tried to forget what I had just seen. I didn't realize how tightly I had been clutching his cloak or how much I had been shivering or how that ick feeling just wouldn't go away.

"This way," he said. He guided me to the ladies' room. I gave him his cloak and made a beeline for a stall, not even bothering to shut the door. It wasn't long and it all came out. I also noticed that Damien was holding my hair back and running a hand up and down my back, gently while soothing me with words.

When I had finished, I flushed the toilet and sat down on the floor. Damien went away a moment, but came back with a wet paper towel. He dabbed at the sweat on my forehead and wiped off my lips. He threw it away. "Are you all right to make it into the lobby?" he asked.

I nodded. He helped me up and supported me. We made it back to the theater lobby and he sat me down on a bench. My mouth tasted foul, but I felt better. I put my head in my hands and stared at the floor, trying to get my normal breathing back.

Damien came back to me with a bottle of water. I sipped at it slowly and he kneeled to my eye-level. "I'm sorry I did that," I said.

"There is nothing to apologize for. You weren't feeling well. I was more than happy to help," he said.

"I guess I'm just a little squeamish when it comes to excessive gore," I said, ashamed.

He put his hands on my shoulders. "My dear, never be ashamed to tell me if something is wrong." He seemed to want to add something, but thought better of it. "Perhaps we should cut this night short and see that you get home and get some rest."

"No!" That was too quick. "I mean, no. I, uh…" I took a deep breath. "I don't want the night to end yet. I think a little fresh air would do me good. I don't want to…" _I don't wanna leave you yet._ "I don't want to let something so trivial end our date." I stood, perhaps too quickly. He caught me and supported me in his arms. He gave me his cloak again.

"You are sure?" he asked.

I nodded. I gave him the most pleading eyes I could muster. He guided me outside and the night air really did help. The fresh air helped me forget those bad smells and sensations. I breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly.

Damien seemed to sense that I was doing a little better. He still held my hand though as he walked me down the street. He seemed to be keeping secret where we were going pretty well.

"It's a beautiful night," I commented, feeling my spirits rise.

"As beautiful as the company, yes," he replied. _He's so smooth! And his voice…_ I had a hard time coming up with a proper response.

When I did respond, it was a bashful stutter. "Th-thank you."

I couldn't look at him, but I could tell he was looking at me. "No… problem."

We turned a corner and stood at the gates of a cemetery. "A little bit of Victorian flavor, trust me," he said.

He leads me through the cemetery with the confidence of someone who's been here many times before. This was a different cemetery than the one Daniel was buried in, I knew, but it still made me sad. I felt something different when Damien led me to a small clearing on a hill overlooking the city: peace. This felt oddly romantic, despite the setting.

Damien sat me down gently and I smiled at how beautiful it all was. Then, from his vest pocket, he pulled a small sleeve of crackers. "Here, have some," he offered.

"Thanks," I said, feeling my face heat up again. I took one and ate it slowly while taking a few sips of water. "I apologize, again, for the night not going as well as we'd hoped."

"My dear, Carrie, I know what happened was unforeseen and I don't blame you for it. I am enjoying my evening with you, truly," he said.

"Thank you."

He changed the subject. "In the Victorian era, there were no public art galleries, parks, or botanical gardens to speak of. Once rural graveyards became a more popular alternative to church burials, they became the one place where people could see beautiful plant life and fine sculptures."

"That makes sense. It _is_ really nice here.

"I have a question though: How are you so okay with being in a graveyard when you were so upset over a scary movie?"

He seemed taken aback. "I… I wasn't…" he sighed, resigned. "Okay, yes, I was extremely scared by that movie. I just… have never been good at those. I just felt as if, because of how I look and act, people expect me to love horror films, so I must play the part. Truth be told, my constitution for it is not much stronger than yours." I detected a small amount of teasing behind his honesty.

"That's okay, really," I said, putting my hand on his. "If I had known I would have suggested another movie… I'm sorry." I pulled away.

"It's quite all right, really." He was so patient with me. "Graveyards, however. I think there's something rather beautiful about death. Cemeteries are traditionally built away from the cities, keeping the dead and the living separated. To acknowledge death and become comfortable with it, I think, gives us a certain intimate knowledge of ourselves. To sit amongst generations of those who came before us, to be truly alive in the midst of death, brings me great comfort. Death helps me to appreciate life. To savor every second."

It had been some time since I had felt this comfortable being in a graveyard, let alone a graveyard at night. It was peaceful. Sitting here with Damien while he expounded on death, eating crackers… it wasn't a bad date at all.

Suddenly, I feel something's eyes on us. I look across the graveyard to see a set of glowing eyes in the distance. I huddle closer to Damien. "What is that?" I ask.

"I'm… not sure," he replies. He seems just as unsettled as I am. Then, the creature starts running toward us, I back further into Damien and he holds me close to him (though whether to protect me or because he was just as scared, I wasn't quite sure).

The creature begins to take shape and lets out a small bark. "It's a dog," said Damien. It turns out to be an adorable little Boston Terrier. Its owner comes running toward us.

I pull myself slightly away from Damien as the dog investigates us. Damien and I pet the dog. He seems to really like dogs and the dog seems to really like him. I was quickly forgetting how close to Damien I had really gotten.

"What a beautiful dog!" said Damien happily.

"Hey," The dog's owner had finally caught up. We look up to see Robert. "Thanks," he says.

"Robert! What are you doing out here on this lovely evening?" asked Damien.

"Hunting cryptids," replied Robert.

"What?" I ask, not sure I heard right.

"What?" he asks.

I decide to touch on a different subject. "I didn't know you had a dog," I commented.

"This isn't my dog. I found her in the streets. I put a leash on her and now we're walking through this graveyard together. Hunting cryptids," replied Robert.

"Uh huh…" I say.

"May I give her a treat?" asked Damien.

"Sure," replied Robert.

Damien reaches into his cloak's pocket, which I realize is still on my shoulders, and pulls out a small dog treat. _He has pockets in this? And I didn't notice?!_ Meanwhile, the dog seems to love the treat, its little tail wagging furiously. Damien pets her with a serene smile on his face.

"Thanks," said Robert.

"My absolute pleasure," replied Damien. He then shakes the dog's paw. "Lovely to meet you, my friend. May our paths cross again." Robert and the little dog head off into the night. Damien watches them go.

"I didn't know you liked dogs," I commented.

"Victorians loved dogs, actually. Most Victorian women of high fashion would always be accompanied by a small dog such as a terrier or a Maltese," replied Damien. "I… uh… think big dogs are nice too."

"Yeah, me too! I love dogs," I smile.

"I do believe we've had enough excitement for one night. What say we make our way home?" Damien hops to his feet and extends a hand to help me up. I take it and stand, any earlier sickness officially gone. As we walk out, I give one last look to the graveyard. _Yeah… this was nice. Really beautiful._

Damien is no less the gentleman as he walks me home. He takes me straight to my doorstep. "Thank you, ever so kindly, for your company tonight," he says.

"Damien, it was my pleasure," I say with a small curtsy. I take off his cloak and hand it back to him. He gingerly takes it.

"Carrie, if you'll allow me, it would bring me great joy to offer you a token of my affection." He reaches into his cloak and pulls out a folded, monogrammed handkerchief. He presses it into my hand.

"Wow. Thank you, Damien. I will use this to dry my tears for those I have lost."

"A noble purpose." He shuffles his feet. _Now he's the one being bashful._ "I… just want to say that it's rare… finding someone like you. Someone who's open to my… eccentricities. It's… nice to feel so accepted. Um. Thank you." Damien gives my hand a quick squeeze. He blushes and hastily retracts his hand. "Uh… I must take my leave. Good night."

Before I can say anything else, he's gone. Even after he goes into his house, I feel the warmth of his hand and his cloak on me. "Huh." I open my door and head inside.

I nearly run over Andrew on the way in. "So, how'd it go?" he asked, trying to act nonchalant.

"You can admit you were watching us and listening," I said, feeling the blush creep back.

"Yeah, yeah, I did that. How'd it go?"

"Movie wasn't all that great. We walked out on it." This was true. Andrew doesn't need to know that both Damien and I were terrified of the movie or that I had gotten sick, probably not even halfway through the movie. "We then took a walk through a graveyard, which was nice. He told me how the Victorians liked to go there to socialize and appreciate art."

"Cool."

"We also saw a dog. Cutest Boston Terrier ever."

"Did you take a picture?"

"No, sorry."

"That's okay. Next time."

"Totally." Probably not. I'm usually too distracted by the cuteness to take pictures. I liked tonight's date though. Everything went well, comparatively speaking. I wished it didn't have to end. I wanted to see him again. I hoped I would see him soon.

* * *

 **That's all for now! Please keep reading and leave some reviews for me, let me know what you think!**

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	4. Chapter 3: The Truth Comes Out

Chapter 3: The Truth Comes Out

I had initially thought that our relationship would have gotten less romantic from the second date onward. However, it turned out to be quite the opposite. He kept inviting me to nightly strolls through the park and around the neighborhood. We still wrote letters to each other. He even gave me a signet ring to stamp the seals with. It was going really well.

Another development that had come from my dating Damien was that Andrew had taken to calling him "Goth Dad". It was an apt description, but I still often feared that he would go back to his goth stage.

I was startled out of my thoughts, while writing my most recent letter to Damien, by Andrew asking, "Is Damien a vampire?"

"Considering how he can walk around in the sunlight unharmed and without sparkling would tell me that he is not a vampire," I said.

"Maybe his cloak is imbued with magic to protect him from the sun's rays, then?"

"You've figured him out, Andrew."

"Does that make you his familiar then?"

"I guess it would." I shrugged.

"That's cool."

I folded up the letter draft and put it away. "Well, I'm going out. While I'm gone, can you throw out the garlic bread that's in the freezer? Damien doesn't like garlic bread."

"I knew he was a vampire!"

"No, it's… never mind. I'll be back."

"I'll leave a window open."

I rolled my eyes at him and headed out the door. I met up with Damien by the beach. He still wore his entire gothic costume. I thought it couldn't have been comfortable for him in this hot weather. He seemed unfazed, however.

"This is gonna seem like a goofy question, but why do goths wear black?" I asked.

"Gothic subculture has always been associated with death, so it would make sense that the style surrounding it would be greatly influenced by mourning. Interestingly enough, though, was that in the Victorian era, Queen Victoria herself mourned the death of her late husband for ten whole years, wearing black for the rest of her life. If that's not goth, I don't know what is."

"I have another question."

"Go ahead."

"How are you so… comfortable with death? I know you talked about how it helps you appreciate life, but… I don't know. I guess I still don't understand."

"Ah. I've experienced several losses over the course of my life, and I truly believe the only manageable way to cope with it is to accept that death is simply a part of living. It is the single universal truth for every human who has ever lived. I am going to die. You… are going to die. And life carries on without us." He seemed hesitant when he mentioned my death. Perhaps there's something he's still not over?

"That's kinda scary," I said. I hated the thought of losing Damien. I had grown to really like him. It would hurt a lot if he died.

"Without the advances of modern science, death was everywhere in the Victorian era, yet funerals were major social functions. Victorians were obsessed with mementos of their loved ones, even going so far as to take elaborately staged photographs of their dead relatives. The minutiae of mourning was so complex that there were set periods of grieving that were deemed acceptable based on who in your life had passed.

"Now, we don't have any of that. If you lose someone, you end up feeling lost yourself because we have no modern equivalent of those formalities. We need to allow ourselves time to grieve, to feel that loss fully, but not allow it to consume us."

Two years since Daniel had passed on and I still felt his loss heavily on my heart. After his death, there was very little sympathy for me, especially from those closest to me. I hadn't been allowed that time to mourn. Instead, I had this sadness sitting over me listlessly.

Damien seemed to have noticed I went out of it for a second, so he said, "The time we have here is brief and fleeting and occasionally cruel, but it is at all times precious. To stare death in the face and live despite that, I think, is a noble existence. Let's save the mourning for the dead."

"You really are a great philosopher, aren't you, Damien?" I blushed and smiled.

He blushed as well. "Well, I don't know about that, but if what I said made you happy, it was worth the while."

We stood there, staring at each other. The sun's reflections on the water lighted on our features. Damien was so majestic, so mysterious. I was finding myself feeling emotions I hadn't felt in a while. I started moving closer to him. I wanted nothing more right now than for him to hold me.

The silence was interrupted by Damien's cell phone ringing. "I'm… so sorry. I have to take this," he said. He takes a few steps away from me to answer his phone. I hope everything's all right. He spoke quietly to whoever was on the other end.

When he came back over to me, I asked, "Is everything all right?"

"There's an emergency," he said urgently.

"Lucien?"

"No, thankfully, but I must take my leave."

"Oh… okay. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You have stuck by me through so much…"

"And you me."

He seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Then come, there isn't time to waste." He grabbed me by the hand and began whisking me away. I could tell his grip was urgent, but there was also a tenderness to it.

We went off in my car to a part of town I had never been in before. Damien had given me directions and, when we finally pulled over, I was more alarmed than ever. There were no clear markings on the building to say what it was. "Where are we?" I asked.

"It's better if I just show you," said Damien. He sounded reluctant? With a wave of a hand, he urged me to follow him.

We went inside and there was still no clear indicator of where we were. The pictures on the wall were nondescript. All I could tell was that this was a waiting room. It was cold. _Where are we?_

"Wait here for a moment. I'll be right back," said Damien. He walks off down the corridor, his boot heels echoing through the halls of this near empty building. Distant howls and scratching put me more on edge. _This is either a shelter or someplace incredibly illegal. What have I gotten myself into?_

The lights turn off for a moment. I swallow the scream in my throat. "Damien?" I call out. My voice is shakier than I had intended it to be. The lights are only off for a moment before they come back on.

"Hey, there," said a woman. I recognized her as being Mary. I had formally met her at the barbecue, but there was someplace else I thought I had seen her before, but I couldn't remember.

"Mary, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"You're not here for the fight club?" _Oh, God._

"Uh… no… thank you?"

"Great, because this is an animal shelter." _Thank God._ "What did you think this place was?"

"I wasn't entirely sure. Everything's so nondescript in decoration and the building has no sign. With the howling down the hall, this could be an animal shelter just as easily as an illegal place where people hold dog fights."

Mary laughed. "Wow, really? Dames, do you hear this baloney?"

"Just… one moment," said a voice. It was Damien's voice, but it sounded… different.

From down the hall, I hear a door open. The man I see is undeniably Damien, but he's not dressed the same. He's wearing normal shoes, blue jeans, a purple polo shirt, and glasses, his contacts gone. His hair is even up in a ponytail as opposed to being draped loose on his shoulders like he normally has it. On his shirt, I notice a name tag with his name on it.

"Damien?" I ask, confused.

"Um… hey," he says. His voice is the same, but, I realize, the refinement he had been putting into it is no longer present. "I wasn't planning on sharing this side of me until much later, but… I'm not as Goth as you think." He still has those deep tones to his voice though. So happy the buttery tone wasn't fake. "I'm a systems administrator for the IT department of a realty company. I wear tennis shoes to work and I listen to Bruce Springsteen. I enjoy going to the hardware store and looking at storage solutions. And I… volunteer at this animal shelter in my spare time. I'm boring. I'm fascinated with Victorian history and the Goth lifestyle, that much is true. It's just… not all that I am. And I need you to know that."

"Oh. I, uh…" I started, but Mary interrupted.

"Hate to kill the moment here, but there's some pressing business that needs attending to," said Mary.

"Oh! Right," said Damien.

"It's Duchess Cordelia," said Mary.

"Again?" asked Damien.

"Who's Duchess Cordelia?" I asked.

"She's one of the pups. Gets out all the time. She somehow learned how to open doors and now she's unstoppable," explained Mary.

"When did she get out?" asked Damien.

"This morning. I went to sing sea shanties to the cats and when I came back she had already bolted. I need to stay here with the pets, so I need you two to go find her."

"Of course."

"Where could she be?" I asked.

"She always ends up running to the same places. Here, I'll draw you a map," said Mary. She starts drawing on the back of a pet adoption form. "She's very smart. Ruthless, even. You need to stay on your toes and get her back by sundown or else she turns into a werewolf and starts eating people."

"What?" I asked.

"You're a perfect little cinnamon roll, Carrie. We just don't want her to be stuck outside when it's cold."

"Oh…" I looked to the floor to hide my shame.

"I'll grab some treats and we can hit the road," said Damien.

I took a look at the map. I noticed the cul-de-sac laid out and the fact that my house was called "Debbie Downer's house." "Well then," I said.

I felt Damien's hand on my shoulder. "It's not the worst name to be called and you were a little shy when you first came to be with us," he commented.

"I guess so," I said.

"Where should we start, do you think?" asked Damien.

"Let's head to the cul-de-sac first, see if any of our neighbors saw her." Damien nodded to my suggestion.

Damien seemed a little low when we got in the car. "It shouldn't be too hard to find her, right?" I asked.

"Mary wasn't kidding when she said that dog was smart. One time she correctly guessed the winner of the Kentucky Derby. It was a really great year for Bark Bark Bark." I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. "What do you think our odds are?"

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. But lo, look upon God's creation and wretch with horror at what he hath forsaken. Hell is empty, and the devils are all here," I said.

"Nice," said Damien.

"I thought that would cheer you up."

"Let's just hope for the best."

"We got this."

We pull into the cul-de-sac and find it to be pretty quiet. We notice Brian doing some yard work and park along the curb to talk to him. "Hey, don't step on the grass. I just mowed," said Brian.

"Have you seen any big dogs run through here?" I asked.

"Well… a little while ago I heard Maxwell barking at something. When I came outside, my garden was torn to shreds. It's going to take forever to re-till the soil," said Brian.

"That could be a dog or a really big raccoon," I said.

"Whatever it was, it must have been hungry. Ate all of my tomatoes."

"I'm very sorry to hear about your garden. If you need assistance restoring it to its former glory, please don't hesitate to contact me," said Damien.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I can take care of it myself, like any real man can," said Brian. Brian was all-smiles, but I couldn't help feeling that he was trying to provoke Damien. _What the heck's his problem?_

Damien brushed it off and guided me back to the car. "The Duchess must still be hungry. I wonder if she's looking for more food elsewhere?"

"Maybe we should head to the Coffee Spoon then, see if Mat saw anything," I suggested.

We drive to the little coffee shop and park on the curb. It looks like a slow day. There're no customers inside and Mat's reading a book.

"Hey, Mat," I greet.

Mat looks up from his book. "Didn't expect to see you two today. What's up?" he asked.

"Have you seen any stray dogs around?" asked Damien.

"Actually, yeah. I caught one digging through the trash earlier. It ran away when I tried to get closer, though," said Mat.

"Did you see where it went?" I asked.

Mat pauses a second to think. "Might have headed east, I think. That pup tore through some old banana bread. Want some for the road? Just in case?" he asked.

"Sure," I said. Mat wraps up a slice for us. "Thanks for the slice. The road slice. This banana bread is gonna be so good."

"I think he meant to give it to you for the dog," said Damien.

"I know that… doesn't mean we can't share," I said. Mat's banana bread was the bomb, but I would make the sacrifice if it meant making Damien happy.

We said good-bye to Mat and headed back to the car. "I feel like we're on the right track," said Damien.

"You think?" I asked.

"If we keep this up, we'll find the Duchess in no time."

"Hey, if you like dogs so much, why don't you have any?"

"Lucien is severely allergic. I wouldn't put him through that. But there are still dogs in my life and for that, I am grateful."

"There's about to be one more dog in your life."

"Splendid attitude. Let us not waste any more time."

"Verily." I take a look at the map. "Why don't we head to the softball field, see if she's there?"

We head to the softball field and see Craig's team practicing. Maybe one of the kids saw something. Craig spots us and jogs over with a softball bat slung over one of his shoulders. "Hey, bros! What's up?" he greeted happily.

"Craig, you wouldn't have happened to see a dog around here, have you?" I asked.

"One escaped from the animal shelter and we're trying to locate her," Damien added.

"I don't think so… maybe one of the girls saw something," said Craig. He called over his older daughters, the twins.

They greeted us, "Hi, Andrew's Mom; Hi, Lucien's Dad," Briar and Hazel said in turn.

"We… have names," I said.

"Girls, have you seen any dogs around?" asked Craig.

"There was a big dog around here earlier. She ran off a while ago, though. I don't think she had an owner, but it really wanted to play," said Briar.

"We tried to play fetch with her, but she just took the softball and ran," said Hazel.

"I think she ate it, actually," said Briar.

"She was a lot of dog."

"Here, take another softball. It might come in handy later," said Craig. He tossed a softball to me and I caught it.

"Many thanks, Craig," said Damien.

After another look at the map, I suggested we head back bayside. We park the car and my mind goes back to earlier in the day. "We've been here before," I said.

"I remember it as if it were yesterday, even though it was only earlier today," said Damien. I smiled.

"Do you see her?" I asked.

"Not yet, though, who knows if she made it onto one of these ships?"

"The Duchess would do that?"

"I wouldn't put it past her to know how to navigate rough seas and without a compass. Very smart."

"Mom?" I hear a familiar voice and we turn to see Andrew.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Did you think I just stayed inside and watched TV all day?" asked Andrew.

"No… what are you doing?"

"I'm heading home to watch TV. I had to grab a burrito first."

"Young man, have you seen a dog around here?" asked Damien.

"Totally. I saw a Pomeranian, a Doberman, a whole bunch a Yorkies, a Greyhound, a Golden Retriever-" Andrew began listing.

"How 'bout a mastiff?" I asked.

"Nope. Definitely would have remembered that since that's the breed you're afraid of. Anyway, gotta go before my 'rito gets soggy," said Andrew as he jogged off.

"You're… afraid of mastiffs?" asked Damien.

"No… kinda. They're really huge and I kinda had a traumatic experience with one as a child where the only thing separating me from this big creature was a car door," I said.

"I'm sorry to hear that. The Duchess is friendly, however, so I don't foresee any problems." I nodded. "Mat said that the Duchess went east, perhaps we need to go not-so-east?" I nodded again.

We went back to the car and headed down the road once more. "I fear that the hours are growing short. We must make haste if we're to find the Duchess by sundown," said Damien. He was putting on that brave front again.

"How many Goths does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" I asked.

"I don't know, how many?"

"One. Goths are very capable, especially when looking for a dog." Damien smiled at that.

The next place we go to is the aquarium. There wasn't any sign that the Duchess had been there. However, it didn't hurt to get out and look around, to be sure. It felt like today had been many dates in one. I smiled.

"Did you know that penguins are considered the Goths of the sea?" asked Damien.

"Damien, I want to believe you so badly," I said.

We headed back to the cul-de-sac. It didn't take long to notice the open door at Hugo's house. "You said she can open doors?" I asked.

"This is classic Duchess Cordelia. A telltale sign. We should approach with caution," said Damien.

"Right." We both instinctively grabbed for each other's hand. We crept inside slowly.

Once inside, we saw the biggest Mastiff I had ever seen. I held onto Damien's hand tighter. "Wonderful. Now all we have to do is get this leash on her before she tries to escape again and get out of here before Hugo comes home," said Damien.

"Right. I'm just gonna stand here, supportively." I let go of Damien's hand and he walked toward the beast.

"Duchess, come here," said Damien. The Duchess appeared suspicious of him and let out a low growl. I shivered. "She's on her guard. We'll need another plan."

I then remember the banana bread in my purse. I take it out and unwrap it. The Duchess sniffs the air and I take a shaky breath, in and out. I step forward slowly with the treat outstretched in my hand. The dog starts moving toward me and I nearly back away. _It's fine,_ I tell myself.

I get on my knees and present the bread to the dog. She takes it from my hand gently (and with much slobber) into her mouth and drops it on the floor. She plops down and starts munching on it.

Damien takes the opportunity to go behind her and clip the leash onto her collar. The Duchess notices this and starts whining. "Aw, it's okay," I say, petting her big head. "We're gonna take you home now." I stand up halfway and pat my legs to try to get her to move. "Come on."

She doesn't move. Even Damien's urging doesn't move her. "Duchess, what happened to our rapport? You and I used to be bosom buddies," said Damien.

"I like how you say that word."

"Which one?" He turns to me and looks directly into my eyes. His eyes remind me of warm caramel and I am briefly lost in them to the point I almost forget to respond.

"Bosom," I say seductively.

I see him shiver. "Some… other time… I shall say that word to you again, so long as you do the same for me."

"I would have it no other way." I smile.

"What are you nerds doing?" came a voice. We both jump and turn to see Ernest, Hugo's son, with a plate of pizza rolls. He stands in the doorway with his usual attitudinal expression.

"Maybe, um… don't tell your dad about this…?" I ask.

"I am definitely telling Hugo about this," he says. _Damn it._

"Aw, come on. Be cool."

"I _am_ cool."

"Cool enough to not tell your dad?"

He freezes momentarily. "You're good."

The Duchess once again makes herself known as she starts pulling against the leash. "Why is this dog in my house?" asked Ernest.

"It's a long-" I start, but before I can continue, the Duchess suddenly breaks free from Damien's grip. She tackles Ernest, bringing him and the pizza rolls to the floor. "Ernest?! Are you okay?!"

Ernest feeds the Duchess a pizza roll. The hound chomps at it happily. "Hey, she likes pizza rolls!" says Ernest. He sits up and the dog licks his face enthusiastically.

"Oh, hey," came another voice. It was Hugo. "What's… why are you guys… whose dog is this…?" he was at a loss.

"It's a long story involving a dog who knows how to open doors," I say. The dog lets out a loud bark. "Hugo, may I present to you Duchess Cordelia," I wave a hand toward the dog meaningfully.

"How do you do?" said Hugo.

The dog lets out another bark. "We're friends!" says Ernest in-between face licks.

"She's from the local animal shelter. She got out and we've been chasing her all around town," said Damien. "Your house was her final stop."

"Dad, can we keep her?" asked Ernest.

"Ernest, I don't know if we're set up to take care of a… wait, did you just call me ' _Dad_ '?" asked Hugo.

"C'mon, please? Look how cute she is," said Ernest.

Hugo sighed. "We had been talking about adopting a dog for a while. But you have to promise me you'll take care of her."

"Yeah! I'll give her all the pizza rolls her little heart desires!"

I pull a pen from my purse and flip over our map, an adoption form ready. "We got the forms ready, if you're interested," I said.

"I'll even waive the adoption fee since, you know, we technically broke into your household," said Damien.

"Well, all right. It's a deal," said Hugo. Hugo steps outside with us to fill in the form while Ernest plays with the Duchess inside.

"He sure seems to be happy with his new friend," said Damien.

"I know! He called me Dad! Can you believe it?!" said Hugo.

"I certainly can," said Damien. "I think this will be really good for Ernest. It should teach him some responsibility."

"You should probably change the locks on your doors though," I commented.

"The Duchess is a wily one, but do right by her and she'll love you two forever," said Damien.

"Thank you," said Hugo.

We head back to the shelter and tell Mary the story. "Carrie, you could be a valuable asset to our team of volunteers, you know," said Mary.

"Sounds fun," I said. Mary nods and starts to leave.

"Oh, one last thing," she says. "Damien's been telling me about you. Glad he finally brought you around."

"Oh, yea-" I say.

Mary cuts me off. "Damien's my special boy. I love him. We go way back and I got a vested interest in his health, success, and well-being. If you ever hurt him…"

"Mary…" Damien says.

"You can fill in the blanks," Mary finished.

"I understand," I said with a grave nod. Mary leaves. I'm now alone with Damien.

We stand there in awkward silence for a few seconds before Damien says, "So… about the whole… Goth thing. I, um… completely understand if you… aren't interested. In me. Anymore."

"What?" I ask. "Am I… missing something here?"

"I'm not a cool Gothic prince. I'm boring! I own five pairs of tennis shoes! I wear dumb glasses! Don't you care?" He looks really nervous, as if waiting for my rejection. My heart twists in my chest.

"Damien," I grab his hand and he looks at me. "Do you really think I only like you because of all the Goth stuff? That's all cool. But the best thing about you is how passionate you are about the things you love. History, art, Victorian fashion, dogs, storage solutions… it doesn't matter what it is. You care. And that's awesome. And also, your glasses make you look very handsome and distinguished."

"You don't think I'm boring? At all?"

"If you're boring, I don't know what that makes me. I own six pairs of black shoes, I collect coins, and I spend my days off in my P.J.'s all day. Some days I spend whole hours doing nothing at all."

"Then maybe… we can be boring together?"

"It would never be too boring if it was with you."

Damien pulls me into a hug. He puts his head on my shoulder. His hair smells like lavender and rosemary. "I was so scared you wouldn't like me."

"Quite the opposite." He pulls away and looks at me. I get lost in his caramel eyes once again.

"May I kiss you?"

I blush deeply. I had been waiting for so long… "Does a bat have wings?" I asked breathlessly.

"Ah, I believe I have my answer then." He smiles slightly and leans in, giving me a gentle kiss. He pulls away and gives me another one of his deep looks. "Do you… want to… help me take care of the puppies?" _Is that a euphemism? I'm happy either way._

"Yes." We actually did wind up taking care of the puppies. They were so cute!

I still had a big smile on my face as Damien (now back in his Gothic clothing) walked me to my doorstep that evening. We walked slowly, our fingers intertwined. Neither of us wanted the date to end.

"This was… lovely. Thank you, for understanding. Thank you for everything. I'm very happy I can be myself around you," said Damien.

"I'm glad. But I have one request," I said.

"What's that?"

"Can we keep sending each other letters?" I ask bashfully.

"But of course." He blushes as well. Damien kisses me again and, though it was no longer than the first, it felt stronger. He turns around to head home. I stand there, frozen for a moment, before I call out.

"Damien?"

He turns and comes back to my side. "Yes?"

Before he can say more, I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a long, passionate kiss. He wraps his arms around my waist. Our bodies fit so well, melded together like this. We parted our lips and looked at each other deeply. Our cheeks are both painted red. It was like first love all over again.

He puts his forehead to mine and says lowly, "I must take my leave, my darling." I shiver. "You need your rest and, besides…" His whisper gets quieter and more alluring. "If you keep doing this to me, I might not be able to stop myself." He pulled away and kissed my forehead tenderly. "Good night, my darling." He walks away and I find myself watching him while reaching for the doorknob. My hand hits nothing but air for a few moments before I finally come to my senses, turn around, and head inside.

I just barely catch Andrew plopping back onto the couch from his spot at the window. "So, you guys together now?" he asked, nonchalantly scrolling through his phone.

"I guess we are," I say happily. It's not long before we both go to bed. It's hard not to think about Damien as I toss and turn before finally drifting to sleep.

* * *

 **That's all for now. Let me know what you guys think in the reviews. Please keep reading and reviewing, thanks :)**


	5. Chapter 4: Victorian Ball

Chapter 4: Victorian Ball

The school year ended and Andrew graduated from high school. I felt so proud of him. He received a scholarship to his choice university and I knew it meant I wouldn't see him again for a while. So, I wanted to celebrate his accomplishment, his future, with a neighborhood party. Everyone in the cul-de-sac showed up.

It was a great time. I took a seat next to Damien on our little bench beneath our cherry tree. He wore his work clothes and had his glasses on. We sat close together, intimately.

"Did you know in the Victorian era they would call benches Seaty-boys?" he asked.

"Really?" I asked, skeptical.

"I'm kidding, Carrie. But what if."

"It's good to see you in these clothes again."

"Thank you. I had a revelation the other day, Carrie, and I think it was largely due to your continued influence upon me. There was a version of myself that might have been embarrassed to show you my true form. My… information technology form. But what you said about me, about how my passion was what you truly admired, that emboldened me to feel like myself regardless of how I choose to dress and act. Instead of separate entities, they are simply different facets of myself, a three-dimensional human being with his own thoughts, wants, and needs. I love dressing the way that I do, but feeling constricted by what I thought was my own personal brand made me lose sight of why I did this in the first place. To make myself happy."

I subconsciously bring my hand to touch Damien's. He responds by giving it a light squeeze. I look to him and see his warm smile.

He speaks again, "I'm trying to be more comfortable with who I am, rather than dwelling on who I could be to other people." I smile widely at him, feeling proud of how far he's come.

"Damien, I'm so happy you've realized you can be a dog-loving Goth," I say.

"Me too, Carrie. Me too," he replies.

I get closer to Damien. I brush some hair out of his face. _So soft._ "How do you get your hair to be so soft?" I ask in wonderment.

"Dog shampoo." His reply makes me giggle happily. I run my fingers through his hair, entranced. He leans closer and puts a hand to my cheek. "You know, public displays of affection were considered scandalous in the Victorian era." He pulls me closer for a deep kiss. When he pulls away, his voice is deeper as he says, "But I think I can make an exception for you." He kisses me once again and I moan, wanting.

He shivers. He leans close and whispers in my ear, "You shouldn't make such sounds without expecting consequences." Now it was my turn to shiver.

"Damien…" I tightened my grip on his hair and brought him in for another kiss.

"Am I walking myself home or are we leaving soon?" It was the voice of Damien's son, Lucien, that broke us out of our reverie. Damien sighed and gave me a kiss to the forehead. He stood and offered his hand to help me up. I took it and looked at him.

"Will I see you again soon?" I asked.

"Of course, my darling. Any time you'd like," Damien replied. He gave me one last kiss on the lips before bidding me good evening.

As it would turn out, our lives got pretty busy after that. I wasn't able to see him for a whole month after that. I missed him and wanted to see him again.

It turned out the month of July brought about a good happenstance. While online one day, I discovered the town was holding an event at the opera house: a Victorian-themed ball. Not only that, but the proceeds from the ticket sales were going to profit the local animal shelters. _Damien must know about this._

I stopped by the animal shelter on my way out of work. Damien wasn't there when I walked in, but Mary was. "Hey, Mary, did you hear about the ball they're having at the opera house?" I asked.

She hushed me harshly and made me come close. "Dames is in the other room. He might hear you," she said.

"Hasn't he heard about it?"

"It's been a pain keeping this a secret from him. I wanted to give you a chance to surprise him. He hasn't been online much lately, just sitting around, moping, thinking about you."

I blushed. "Well, I can't say my life has been much different lately."

"I had a feeling." She winked. "It's your chance, girl, take it."

Damien came into the room. "Oh, hello, Carrie. What were you two talking about?" he asked.

"Carrie was just telling me she'd be busy next weekend. She has to go out of town for a while," said Mary. _Wife of a preacher and she's lying?_

Instead of thinking on it further though, I just nodded. "Yeah, there're some things I need to take care of," I said.

"Oh… well, have a good time… be safe." Damien left the room looking low and dejected, like a lost puppy. I almost stopped the plan right then and there.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Mary.

"Right," I said. I ran out and headed home, ready to put the plan into action.

When the time finally came, I had everything ready. Mary even came over to help me with my corset and other Victorian wear. Everything I wore was authentically Victorian. I was sure the purple and black gown I wore would make Damien very happy. I put light make-up on my face and was just ready in time for when the stagecoach arrived.

"Do you think he suspects anything?" I asked.

"I just told him I'd be taking him for a night on the town and to wear his best duds," said Mary. "Now, go, quick."

We hurried into the stagecoach under cover of shadow. The coach made a small journey to Damien's house and, when it came to a stop, I heard Damien outside. "Well, this is something," he said.

Mary got out of the coach and greeted him. "You're looking rather spiffy, Dames."

"Thank you, Mary… what is all this?"

"We've got a special surprise for you, Dames."

"We…?"

"Come on out, Carrie."

I stepped to the door of the coach and into the light. From the look in Damien's eyes, he was happy to see me. "Carrie!" He grabbed my sides and lifted me off my feet. He spun me around and hugged me tight. "I missed you, so much."

"I missed you too, Damien," I said, hugging back. He set me down on the ground and we took in each other's appearances. His clothes were much more formal than even his usual Goth clothing. He wore a black top hat with a black ribbon and purple flower, black gloves, deep purple vest, and a black suit. Mary held a cane in her hands that I presumed was his. It was black with a golden ball at its top. He also wore his contacts this evening, his eyes shining in the moonlight.

"Well, let us be off then," said Damien. He took my hand and helped me into the coach. Mary gave him his cane and he followed me inside.

"You two have fun tonight!" called out Mary. We laughed happily and waved before she closed the coach door.

"So, darling, what plans do you have for me this evening?" asked Damien.

"It's a surprise," I said simply, giving him a teasing wink.

"Well, seeing you in clothes like these… it makes me very happy."

"I just wanted to make you feel the same way I do when I see you."

His hand gave mine a light squeeze. "I already do." I couldn't stop the blush that came to my cheeks.

We spent the rest of the ride in a happy silence before coming to the opera house. When Damien opened the door and we walked out together, I smiled when I saw the look of surprise in his eyes. "I had no idea the town was holding such an event! How could this have escaped my notice?" he asked.

"I was going to delete my Siingle account until I saw an ad for this ball. I thought it'd be fun, so I bought tickets. Are you… happy?" I asked.

"My dear Carrie, I am overjoyed." He held me close and we walked in.

The patrons of the ball were all dressed in Victorian wear and some of the guests seemed to know Damien. They called him out and talked with him. While he and his fellow Gothic enthusiasts talked about history that escaped my knowledge, I stood at Damien's side, feeling happier than ever that I was able to make him this happy.

We danced a few dances and it came as hardly a surprise to discover Damien was excellent at the waltz. We exchanged few words during the evening, taking more delight in each other's company. After a time, there came a lull and I asked him if we could step outside for some fresh air.

Behind the opera house was a wide garden often used for outdoor plays. There were benches set up here and some couples sitting at them. Damien and I sat at one of the benches. The roses behind us gave off a wonderful aroma, making the evening the more romantic.

"I must thank you for the invitation tonight. I had a great deal of fun," said Damien. His smile seemed half-full.

I grabbed his hand. "Damien? Is there something wrong?" I asked.

"Why would you ask that, my dear? I'm fine, just… lost in thought is all." He squeezed my hand tenderly.

"I was happy to take you out this evening. We haven't seen each other in some time. I've been… lonely without you."

"As have I, Eliza-" He froze, realizing his mistake. "I-I'm sorry, I… oh, God…" He brought both of his hands to his face and began crying. I was alarmed at this and decided to hold him and rub his back tenderly.

"It's okay, Damien. It's all right," I said hushing him.

"No, Carrie, it's not." He took out a handkerchief from his sleeve and dabbed the tears from his eyes. "I'm sorry. You just… reminded me… of her…" I stayed quiet. I wanted him to tell me at his own time.

He went on, "Eliza was…" He balled his hand into a fist. He must not have talked about her in some time. "Eliza was Lucien's mother, my… first love." He sniffed and wiped his nose with the handkerchief. "She and I shared the same interests while in school. She was my everything. She encouraged me to pursue my interests to the length you see me pursuing them today. You could say she ignited a passion within me. When she and I realized we would have a child, we were so happy… but… when the day came for Lucien to be born… she gave her life, the moment he took his first breath." I rubbed his back soothingly. There was nothing I could say, really.

He continued, "When she died, I wanted to live my life as she would have wanted. I came to accept death as a part of life, I wasn't angry that she was dead, but… I couldn't bring myself to move on. I thought that if I let go of this passion of mine, she would be gone forever. This is actually the first night I've brought myself to think of her, to say her name, in some time. I had lost myself for a long time.

"Meeting you, Carrie, has brought back something in me. I can live without her now. I don't have to live my life two-sided anymore. I can finally move on." He took my hand in his and held it tightly, as if making sure I wouldn't leave.

"I feel the same way, Damien," I said. "I have only just brought myself to, in recent weeks, get rid of the last of Daniel's things. He died on his way to pick me up from a night shift, so I stopped working nights. I stopped going outside at night, afraid I would hear his ghost. He was very dear to me, even if he wasn't to anyone else around me. I could almost feel their happiness at my 'freedom'. They hated Daniel and I never understood why. They never let me grieve, never took my feelings into account. That's why we moved.

"I'm glad I did though. Meeting you has helped me understand life better, helped me to move on. I can bring myself to love again."

"I… we should have had this conversation much sooner. I feel as if a great weight is lifted from my chest," said Damien.

"Me too." I squeezed his hand. He leaned close and put a hand behind my head. He kissed me deeply. It was a kiss unlike the others I'd had with him before. This kiss grounded us, reminded us that there was always a way to move on.

It wasn't long after that the party ended. We rode in the coach home to the cul-de-sac. It stopped in front of Damien's house and he walked me the rest of the way to my house. "Thank you again for the lovely evening, Carrie. You've made me happier than I've felt in some time." Our intertwined hands were locked, neither of us wanting to let go.

We arrived at my doorstep too soon. We both were hesitant to let go. "I don't want you to leave," I said.

"I…" He looked angry at himself, as if he were about to say something he didn't want to. "I wish I could stay, but I have an early day tomorrow. I'm sorry, my love."

I tilted his chin so that we were eye to eye. "It's all right, Damien," I said. I kissed his lips tenderly. When I pulled away, I said, "The moments I share with you, however brief, are each one happy. Thank you for making this evening such a wonderful time." I kissed his forehead. "Good night." Our hands slowly parted from palm to fingers to fingertips.

"Good night."

Once inside, I sighed. _How can he so easily set a fire in my soul?_

* * *

 **Wow, Romance Express this chapter :P I wanted to write about who Damien might have been with before since the game never talked about it. I also wanted another date before moving on to even better things ;) Let's just say the rating applies especially to the chapter coming up. Stay tuned for then and please keep reading and reviewing, thanks :D**


	6. Chapter 5: His Bouquet

Chapter 5: His Bouquet

Summertime came and ended. When fall came, Andrew left for his university, leaving me in the house alone. What made it all the worse was how much Damien had been working lately. His letters had been becoming briefer and were bring sent with less frequency. I barely even caught him at home before he'd rush out the door for work.

One evening, as the sun set on another lonely day, I watched one of the romances that'd make me cry every time I watched it. I lay on the couch in my sweat pants and night shirt eating ice cream with as much chocolate as possible. I squirted chocolate whipped cream into my mouth to suppress my tears and vainly try to fill the hole in my heart.

Then, there was a knock at the door. I set down the whipped cream and ice cream on the coffee table, put my slippers on, and trudged to the door. I opened it to see Damien in his work clothes and on one knee on my doorstep.

"Damien! What are you doing here?" I asked, suddenly feeling conscious of the disarray my hair was in.

From behind his back, he pulled out a bouquet of flowers for me and my heart leapt at seeing the lilies. I took them happily and invited him in. I was shaky with excitement as I took out a vase, filled it with water, and put the flowers in it. As soon as the flowers were safe, Damien wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed me on the neck.

"Wh-what's the occasion?" I asked, stuttering and blushing.

"I wanted to apologize for spending so many days away from you, but there was something I wanted to get for you that I simply didn't have the money for, at the time," said Damien. He turned me to face the bouquet. "Remember how I once told you that there was a significance in how the bow to a bouquet is tied?"

I gasped, finally noticing the ring tied to the ribbon. He held me closer as he whispered in my ear, "Carrie, my darling, will you marry me?"

"Damien, yes, of course!" I turned in his hold and we kissed each other. He had his hands on my back, pulling me impossibly closer and I reciprocated. The kiss lasted longer than either of us expected and I moaned. He groaned in response and pulled away.

He whispered in my ear, "I hope you save your best sounds for our wedding night."

I shivered in anticipation. "Yes, darling, yes…" I whispered, breathless.

We kissed again and, on parting, he said, "Until then, my love."

Our engagement only lasted for about a week. We got a justice of the peace to marry us in my backyard. The cherry blossoms had become fruit at this point and were falling on the ground. Birds and other small creatures feasted upon the fallen fruit and I felt as if there could be no more beautiful a day.

That evening, Damien walked me to his house. It was agreed upon that I would sell my house and move in with him. We had even taken some seeds from the cherry tree to plant one in Damien's garden. Until that time, however, this night I stayed with him.

"It was a beautiful wedding, Damien," I sighed happily while holding his waist.

He held mine as he replied, "And now we're finally alone; together at last." He whispered in my ear, "I sent Lucien to a friend's house for the evening." I shivered at the implication. "By the way, it has made me very happy that you have chosen not only to keep your Victorian dress, but also that you wore it on our wedding day."

"I could think of no more fitting an outfit."

"Indeed… I must admit, the first time I saw you wear it, I wanted to take it off of you. And now that we're here…" He pulled down my collar and suckled my neck, making my breath catch in my throat. "Now that we're here and you're mine, so are your clothes, which are coming off by my hands."

"Damien…" I moaned as he kissed at my neck, touching those spots that made me want him more than anything in the world.

He stooped down and took one of my feet into his hand. He began unbuttoning the shoe before taking it off gently. He did likewise with the other foot. His shoes he unbuttoned and tossed aside and, though they were heels, he still stood on his feet taller than me. He removed my gloves and his next. His fingers intertwined with mine as he kissed me deeply. His lips ignited a fire in me, as they always did when we kissed like this.

He pulled away, finding the both of us breathless. He lifted me into his arms and I squealed in delight. He carried his bride bridal style to his room where a purple King awaited to make me his queen. Damien set me down on my feet and removed the hoops keeping my skirt billowed. He then set me down on the bed and removed our hats, throwing them perfectly onto the dresser on the opposite end of the room.

Damien then began unbuttoning my dress as I unbuttoned his vest. He shirked off his coat and vest, leaving a white silk shirt. In the moonlight, I could see the outline of his chest through the shirt and I shivered. As Damien was still unbuttoning my dress at this point, he felt it and whispered hotly into my ear, "Anxious, are we?" in a teasing tone.

"Damien…" I sighed amorously.

Damien helped remove the top half of the dress, revealing my undergarments to him. I lifted my legs as he scooted the rest of the dress off me and threw it unceremoniously onto the floor. He lay me down again and began kissing my neck again with more vigor. "I appreciate your authenticity, darling, but the corset does nothing to improve the appearance of an already beautiful woman."

As he held me in an embrace to untie the strings to the corset, I said, "You're just frustrated you need to take off extra layers to get to me."

"Well, yes!" he said frankly. I giggled happily. I breathed a sigh of relief when the corset was finally removed. Damien then proceeded to remove the last remnants of my Victorian underwear to only let out a groan of frustration at seeing I wore modern underwear underneath. "This is getting ridiculous." He went to take off my bra and underwear, but I held him back with a foot.

"Nothing more comes off me until that shirt comes off."

"You're being unfair."

"Is it unfair of me to want to see you as much as you want to see me?" I asked, my hands on his shirt collar.

"No." I began unbuttoning his shirt, but his hand stopped me halfway. I hadn't noticed until now how big his hand was. His long fingers nearly held both my wrists in one hand. "I'm just… embarrassed… I guess. I'm not… proud… of my appearance…"

"Damien." His eyes met mine. I had insisted he wear clear contacts today and I was happy for it. His warm caramel eyes searched my deep blue ones. "I want to see you, my husband, my darling." I kissed his neck and suckled until he groaned.

"As you wish, my darling…" He didn't stop me as I took off the rest of his shirt. Now, only his binder separated me from his chest. He scooped me up until we were both upright on the bed. I took off the binder and he looked away with a blush.

"Damien… I had no idea you were hiding such beauty from me." He was _really_ cut. He had not a six-pack, but an _eight_ -pack. His pectorals were large and, from touching them, I could tell he worked on them as well as his abs. His arms were lean, but muscles rippled as he moved. I blushed at this godlike man.

"I must admit I… I get a little embarrassed since they've always been big," Damien said in reference to his pecs. "I got teased for it, so I decided to hide them."

"Damien," I said, cupping his face in my hands. "I couldn't love your appearance more. Please, don't change or hide around me."

He pulled me until I was in his lap and kissed me passionately. "I love you," he moaned hotly.

"I love you," I replied. I ran my hands over his chest, just feeling it. He shivered at my touch. I kissed his clavicle and bit down, causing him to gasp. I licked at the bite before kissing further down his chest. He laid me down on the bed, stopping me in my tracks. He reached behind my back to take off my bra. He tossed it aside and kissed and fondled my breasts. "Damien…" I sighed.

I wanted more of his touch. I traced my hands down his back and grabbed the hem of his pants, frustrated they still hadn't been removed. He laughed deeply into my chest, causing my entirety to vibrate. "Yes, darling…" he seemed to understand what I wanted.

He removed his pants and I gaped at how tight his underwear was, in addition to how large he looked. "D-Damien… Y-you're b-bigger th-than I'm used t-to," I couldn't stop my stuttering. I was as nervous as I was my first time, I realized.

"It's all right, my darling. I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable. All right?" He held my cheek in one hand.

"A-all right." I nodded.

His hand reached to my underwear. "Would this be okay?"

I nodded. He removed my underwear, leaving me entirely bare before him. He sucked on three of his fingers, lubricating them. He then slipped one inside me and I jumped, having not experienced someone else's touch in a long time.

"It's all right," Damien soothed. I felt another finger enter me and he began moving them around. He stretched them back and forth to make me big enough (hopefully). I moaned and thrusted my hips into his hand. He inserted his third finger and flexed all three into me.

"Damien…" His name came breathlessly across my lips like a mantra keeping my humanity in place before I went fully carnal. A fourth finger went in and I thought I was going to lose it, then and there. I groaned. "Don't stop… please…"

However, he pulled out. "Carrie…" I looked at him in time to see him lick his fingers clean of my fluids. I shivered again. "I don't think this paltry appetizer will do." Just as I was wondering what he meant, he began kissing my thighs and around my dripping heat. He stopped for a moment before giving a long lick to me. I shivered and moaned.

"Damien… darling, please…"

He came back to my level and kissed my jawline. "What do you want me to do?" he asked. He kissed my lips and I moaned.

He pulled away and hovered over me, awaiting an answer. "You're such a fucking tease…"

He laughed and began peppering my neck with kisses once again. "I want to hear you say it. It's been a long time since I've heard someone ask me for it."

I shivered. "Damien…"

"Yes?" his voice was low and I knew he was just as aroused as I was.

"Touch me, make me cum, please…"

"That's all I needed to hear, darling." He kissed down my body from my clavicle down to my thighs once again. Then, his tongue went _into_ me. I cried out in ecstasy.

"Damien… oh, God, Damien, yes!" I breathed. My mental dictionary went down to a handful of words as his tongue went in and out of me with a speed and grace that I hadn't experienced in any equivalent before.

Just as I felt myself on the edge, my body shaking, demanding for a release, he stopped. He kissed me, put his tongue in my mouth, and made me taste the fruit of his labor, of my labor. I moaned. "Damien… please…"

He was breathing heavily, perhaps suppressing himself as much as I was. He removed his underwear and I finally saw all of him. "Carrie… I need you…"

I shivered at how deep his voice had gotten. I brought my legs around his waist. Before going in, he seemed struck with a thought. "Wait," he said.

I groaned in frustration at being further delayed. He fumbled with reaching for his nightstand drawer. He grabbed some lube and put some into me, further widening my entrance. He then reached for a condom and slipped it on. I could have saved him the extra step, but that was a secret I couldn't divulge right now. He lubed up the condom's exterior as well.

He kissed me deeply as he slowly entered me. I groaned in pain since he was still pretty big. He kissed the tears away that had sprung from my eyes. Then, a miracle, he was all the way inside me. He was still quite large, but I was slowly getting used to it.

I felt Damien shaking and his member throbbing within me. It was taking everything in him to not move, to let me get comfortable. I kissed his lips. "Thank you… you can move now…" I gave my thanks and permission.

He slowly moved out, then rocked back in, hard. I moaned loudly. He did this again until he set a slow pace. "Carrie…"

"Damien…" I moaned. "Faster…"

He acquiesced and I started feeling myself moving to a higher cloud of ecstasy. I moved with him as I felt our bodies becoming one. "Carrie…" It seemed to be the only word he remembered anymore.

While I still had a small grip of humanity left, I told him, "I want… I want you all, Damien… don't hold back." My cries and our moans and groans grew louder as I felt him give himself to me.

"Carrie…" He gripped my shoulders urgently, perhaps signaling me that he was close.

"Damien…" I was close too. I tightened my legs' hold on his waist and put my arms around his neck. He got on his forearms and began kissing me once again, but it didn't last long since we were both running short on breath. "Damien!" I cried as I felt my orgasm hit. My back arched and my chest met his.

"Carrie!" I felt him and he felt me in a more intimate way than we ever had before. We both gave a few more thrusts, not wanting to let go yet. His hair was hooded around my face. He kissed me deeply, our breaths only barely calming down. He pulled out and took the condom off before nearly collapsing at my side. I turned to my side gingerly, still feeling the remnants of him between my legs. I watched his chest rise and fall.

"You held back for me…" I said between breaths.

He turned to face me. "Of course, darling… I wanted it that way." His hand met mine and he rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. His breathing and mine slowed to more comfortable paces. Neither of us were tired enough to sleep yet.

"Damien, there's something I should tell you."

"Is everything all right, Carrie? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I smiled. "No more hurt than I expected from that size." I winked.

"Carrie." He hugged my body close to his chest. I had never felt smaller around him before. His chest was so broad and manly. He had a hand on the small of my back and another on the back of my head. "You should have told me, I would have been more careful."

"Damien, it's not that…"

He tilted my chin upward to look in his eyes. "Then, what is it?"

I blushed and tried to look away, but he wouldn't let me. I looked in his eyes again. "The reason why Andrew is adopted is because I can't have children. I'm… I'm barren, Damien."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "That's all right, Carrie. It's okay." He rubbed my back soothingly.

"You were expecting me to say something worse, weren't you?" I asked slapping his arm playfully.

He laughed. "No! Maybe…" He laughed again and I gave him another slap. "Stop…" He was now in a fit of laughter. I pouted. He stopped laughing and got serious. "All right, here is my honest opinion, Carrie: I am happy with the children that I have. If we one day decide we want another, I am perfectly willing to look at some options like surrogacy or adoption or whatever we decide. This does not change anything between us."

"It definitely simplifies sex though."

He laughed. "I suppose it does." He kissed my forehead. "I love you, Carrie."

"I love you, Damien."

Some time passed. Andrew came home for the holidays and he and Lucien became good friends. Damien looked at Andrew as his son and I looked at Lucien as my son. Never having known his mother, I think Lucien appreciated it, even though he had odd ways of showing it.

One day, I was home with Lucien. I had called off sick to work since I had been throwing up like crazy. Lucien was… being less than sympathetic. He just listened to his music and tuned me out of existence.

"Lucien," I called out to him, waving a hand in front of his face.

He removed his earbuds and said, "Don't get me sick with your germs." He then curled further into himself than he had been, his hoodie drooping over his hair entirely.

"Lucien, we need to talk. Ever since I came to live here, you've been very stand-offish and you barely say ten words to me in a day, if at all." He huffed and I continued. "Lucien, I don't want to take the place of your mother, but I-"

"How can you say that?! Don't act like you knew my mom! 'Cause you didn't! I'm tired of being forced into this relationship! I didn't ask you to be my mom! You're not!" He screamed. Tears were streaming from his face and he was now pacing the living room.

"Lucien-"

"And I'm _not_ going back to therapy!"

I stood up and hugged him close to me. He didn't return it, but he didn't pull away either. "You don't need to. I don't ask that of you. I just… I just wanted to know why you hated me."

"I don't hate you…" he said quietly. I pulled away and his tears had lessened. "I just feel like you're replacing mom. I don't want her to be forgotten."

"And she won't be. Lucien, I'm thankful to her, because she gave me a chance to meet you."

He crossed his arms. "Yeah, I guess."

"Cool. Now, how about I make us some vegan waffles? I know how much you… like them…" I felt my breath come harder as I walked. My vision got narrowed and I felt woozy. Lucien came to my side and grabbed my hand. He guided me back to the couch for me to sit down.

"Geez, you're probably dehydrated from hurling so much," he said.

"I'm okay…" My voice was quiet, unintentionally.

He scoffed. "No, you're not." I held my head in my hands, bent over. Lucien slowly made me sit up. He handed me a glass of water, which I sipped gingerly. "You gonna hurl again? I can get you a trash can."

"I'm okay. Really, I am." He offered me a packet of crackers and I shook my head. "Not feeling any appetite though." I still felt woozy.

"Maybe we should call a doctor."

"I don't wanna worry your dad. I'm fine, really." I got up slowly. "There, see? I got this."

"You should be in bed, here I can help you." If he said anything else, it was a blur to me. I immediately passed out.

When I woke up, I heard Damien and Lucien talking. I wasn't strong enough to really do anything other than listen. "I didn't know what else to do! She just collapsed in front of me!" Lucien sounded upset.

"Lucien, it's all right. I should have seen this was a bigger problem than its appearance. She insisted she was fine and I just… I didn't want to pressure her," said Damien. He sounded just as scared.

"That's what happened with mom and she died!" Lucien was in tears now.

"Lucien…"

"I don't wanna lose her too."

"It's all right, Lucien. She's going to be fine."

"Mr. Bloodmarch?" came a new voice. A woman.

"Doctor, what's happened to my wife? Is she going to be all right?" asked Damien.

"We're running some tests now. Her urine sample shows she was a little dehydrated, which probably caused her fainting spell," said the doctor.

"Damien…" I found my voice, though croaky, at last. My eyes were heavy, but I was able to see Damien at my side.

"It's all right, darling. I'm here," said Damien. He held my hand fast.

A male doctor came in. "Mr. Bloodmarch, I'd like to speak with you and your wife alone, if that's all right," he said.

"It's happening again… oh, God…" Lucien was crying. The female doctor hushed him and walked him outside. With the door closed, I could see Damien let out tears he had been holding back.

"We're going to be keeping your wife until tomorrow so that she can get her strength back," said the doctor.

"Please, doctor, just tell me my wife is going to be okay," said Damien.

"The tests show they're both gonna be just fine."

"They're… both…?" I asked.

"I don't understand," said Damien.

"The tests show your wife's pregnant. Her vomiting was just morning sickness," said the doctor.

"Carrie…" Damien kissed my forehead tenderly, relieved.

"Congratulations," said the doctor.

"A child… Carrie…" said Damien.

"I'm scared, Damien," I said.

"It's all right. We'll get through this together. I've been through this before." His tone was laced with a bit of sadness and I could understand why. _He sees this as a potential death sentence too, doesn't he?_

"Damien, I need to ask you something. It's gonna sound really selfish, but… if it looks like I might die, keep me alive. I know this is a miraculous circumstance and that I may not have another chance at it, but I can't die. I can't leave you behind and I can't let Lucien lose another mother."

"Death is a natural part of life, remember? Whatever happens will happen. We must find a way to be okay with that."

"I love you, Damien. I don't want to leave you."

"It's all right, my love, it's okay." He held me close. We would just have to wait and see.

* * *

 **Well, this was primarily where the M rating came in LOL. One more chapter left, so stay tuned ;) Please keep reading and reviewing, thanks :D**


	7. Epilogue

The Epilogue

As the pregnancy progressed, I couldn't have been happier, even through the discomfort of it all. Damien was very gentle with me and always got me what I wanted, even if it was something little. We learned a lot about each other. What was sad was that there was still that underlying fear that I might die. I'd catch Damien holding me or looking at me in such a way as if it would be the last time he could do so.

It was in my last month of pregnancy that I sat in the graveyard where Eliza, Damien's first wife, was buried. I wanted to see her and try to get over my fear. It didn't help much.

I don't know how long I had been sitting there before I heard footsteps behind me. I looked up to see Damien. "I didn't expect to find you here," he said. He was dressed in his normal Victorian wear, but he wore his clear contacts.

"Neither did I. I just wanted some time with another girl who's been in my shoes… she must have been as scared as I am," I said, tears coming to my eyes.

Damien bent down to my level and gently wiped the tears away. He soothed me. "Carrie, I've told you time and time again: it will be all right. It will."

"I've never done this before."

"Neither have I, really." He looked thoughtful. "As much as I raised Lucien on my own, I've never had the opportunity to have a helpmate such as you with me. We are going to make it through this. Together."

"I just can't stop thinking about the what if's, I guess."

"If you die, Carrie… I will never love again." His smile was weak, grim. "Death may be a part of life and I may have accepted that in my mind, but in my heart, I cannot deny the feelings there. I love you too much, Carrie." He was blushing, bashful now.

I gave him a tender kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Damien. You always know what to say."

He helped me to my feet and placed a hand gently on my stomach. "Whatever happens, Carrie, I will be here. I'll take care of us."

I gave a cry of pain as I felt a strong kick. I took a few deep breaths. Damien appeared alarmed. "I'm all right. Can you just take me home, please?" I asked.

"Of course. I'll call a cab." Damien took out his cell phone and started calling a cab, but something else intervened.

I sank to my knees. "Damien, baby…"

"Right." He cancelled his call for a cab and instead dialed three numbers.

Wow, pain. More than any dumb thing I'd ever done in college. More than any dumb thing I had tried in private. Pain. I lost track of the time.

Five hours passed. I was exhausted, but… I was alive… and so was our little one. Damien and I had a baby girl. She was born and put in my arms just as the first rays of sunlight came over the horizon.

I was, sadly, too exhausted to hold onto her properly. The doctor instead gave her to Damien. He was in tears. I knew he was happy though. Happy and relieved.

"What shall we name her, darling?" asked Damien, sitting in a chair by my bed.

"Hope, because she gave us hope for a new tomorrow," I said wearily.

"Hope…" He let the name rest in the air. "I agree. Hope Uriel Bloodmarch."

I hummed in agreement.

I went to sleep shortly thereafter. When I woke, I saw Lucien holding his baby sister with Damien standing proudly behind them. I was so happy.

A few days passed before they sent me and the little one home. Andrew met us at the house. He looked ecstatic. It was a great family I had fallen into and created.

One evening as I held Hope in my arms and rocked her to sleep, I wondered, briefly, what would have happened had my life turned out differently. I was happy with the life I had chosen, certainly, but I wondered: what if I hadn't picked Damien? What if I picked Andrew's teacher, Hugo; my old college roomie, Craig; the mysterious Robert; the barista, Mat; or bear-sized Brian? And why was Joseph on a dating site if he was married? What other mysteries were out there, waiting to be discovered? I heard a knock at the door and I answered it…

To Be Continued…

* * *

 **I just wanted to take a sec to tell you guys what I thought while writing this: I wanted to write a mom falling in love with the DDADDS dads. I am not trying to attack or bash at all. If anything, this should be looked at as an homage to the beautiful artwork and creativity put into the game.**

 **When I was writing Damien's story, I wanted to give background onto the things that were not explicitly explained in the game. These things were my interpretation and should be taken as such. So, if you had a different idea for who should have been Damien's past wife or if you had a different idea on why he was transgender, that's fine. I was trying to write him as this guy who had been put into this box by being teased as a kid, but as he grew up, he never got enough affirmation that he was worth anything. The death of his wife further cemented him going into his shell. This is just my opinion. You guys can translate it however you want. This was written in fun and should be treated thusly.**

 **With all that being said, thanks to my reviewers: and Lord-Possum. Thank you to those who followed this story: CheshireHexx, FaerieQueenCrystal, Faeriie, HeartedWhirlwind, Hibari Shizuka, NinjaGirl2009101, le petite fleur, psycho-143, psycho-phantom, and xXSatanSkittlesXx. Thank you also to those who considered this story one of your faves: Lilty Ravenhearth, NinjaGirl2009101, SakuraPheonix13, blackmoresnight3, psycho-143, vampireXgirl13X, and xXSatanSkittlesXx. Thank you also to the most important person of all: you. I appreciate all of you so much.**

 **The next story* in this series is going to be centered around Robert. It is going to have the same mother and son with a similar backstory, but it'll be tweaked a little. If you want to check it out, I will try to get the first chapter up soon.**

 **On another note, my account is five years old today. If any of you would like to check out my profile for other stories I've written as well as yearly statistics, please feel free to do so. Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story. See you laterz ;)**

 ***Update: The story on Robert is posted with a Prologue and Chapter 1 done. I will be updating it weekly every Sunday ;)**


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